


Winter Serenade

by SweetSorcery



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Advent Ficlet Challenge 2018, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Gellert Grindelwald, Alternate Universe - No Obscurus, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Brother-Sister Relationships, Canonical Character Death, Clothed Sex, Coffee Shops, Couch Sex, Credence Barebone Heals, Credence Barebone Learning Magic, Credence Barebone Needs a Hug, Credence is the Damsel in Distress, Cuddling & Snuggling, Damsels in Distress, Desperation, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Endearments, Epilogue, Familiars, Family Bonding, Family Feels, Father Figures, Feeding, Feels, Ficlet Collection, Fireplaces, First Kiss, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Fix-It, Found Family, Frottage, Furniture Shopping, Getting Together, Gift Giving, Hand & Finger Kink, Happy Ending, Holding Hands, Home, Hope, Hot Chocolate, Hurt/Comfort, Innocence, Kid Fic, Kissing, Light Angst, Loss of Virginity, Love at First Sight, M/M, Magic Revealed, Magical Artifacts, Male Slash, Mary Lou Barebone is Her Own Warning, Modesty Barebone is a Witch, Music, Mutual Pining, Neck Kissing, Original Percival Graves Needs a Hug, POV Alternating, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Original Percival Graves, Protective Credence Barebone, Protective Older Brothers, Protective Original Percival Graves, Protectiveness, Rescue, Rimming, Romance, Seduction, Sharing Clothes, Shopping, Slash, Smitten Original Percival Graves, Snow, Trust, Wandless Magic, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Winter, Yule
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-06 18:41:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 29,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16838230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetSorcery/pseuds/SweetSorcery
Summary: It's December 1926 and, with no outside interference, this might be how Credence and his Mr Graves find each other, and how Modesty too finds a real home.





	1. Reflection

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Tumblr's **2018 Advent Ficlet Challenge** , and was updated with a chapter per day (more or less) and a prompt for each. This is a winter story, but not a Christmas story. I'm a Pagan, and the things celebrated here are not festive and seasonal so much as life-changing forever after. I just loved the prompts, and the idea of them finding each other in a wintry setting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 1 Prompt: Holiday Decor

The pamphlets left in Credence’s hand dangled forgotten when he stopped in front of the department store window, staring in awe at the tree hung with gold and silver ornaments and tinsel, and the comfortable looking brown leather armchair beside it. On the floor was a stack of gift boxes, and Credence sighed as he imagined walking towards a tree like that, and gifts placed there just for him. He wondered what kind of person would sit there, just waiting for him to come and unwrap his gifts.

He caught movement in the corner of his eye and glanced to the left of the display, where he saw the reflection of a man in the window - he stood a few feet behind him, at the edge of the curb, looking at the store window too. Or perhaps, looking at Credence.

‘No, why would he be looking at me?’ the boy thought sadly. 'Not a man like that.’

That man was handsome, elegant, well off, certainly educated and of high social status. He wore a stunning coat with split sleeves, a full suit underneath it, a waistcoat and tie, and a deep blue scarf. He was the very opposite of Credence in everything but height and colouring; his hair was dark too, except for the silver at the sides, and his eyes looked dark as well.

Credence swallowed. His imagination placed the stranger in that armchair, sitting upright but relaxed, legs apart, upper body leaning forward. He visualised the man beckoning him nearer, smiling gently, inviting him to kneel at his feet, and Credence swayed close enough to the glass for his breath to mist it up.

He jumped back a step, feeling like a fool and, when his eyes focused properly again, the man had disappeared… as unlikely now to have ever been there at all, as it was for Credence to ever find himself in a scene like the one he’d conjured up in his mind.


	2. Star

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 2 Prompt: Star

Percival Graves was a cynical man. He always had been. It was a characteristic that did not change just because ‘twas the season to be jolly’ or whatever the No-majes called it. He had no time to be jolly and, more importantly, no reason to be so. His life was a solitary one, due to both his work and his impossibly meticulous habits. His work as Director of Magical Security at MACUSA threw enough nasty surprises his way; his only counter measure was to keep his personal life as predictable, tidy and empty as he could.

He was not a man to take the time to bathe in the light of the sun, admire the moon or gaze at the stars. At least, not until the night of December 2nd, 1926, when all the garish decorations of 5th Avenue faded away to leave behind a single bright star - a tall, thin, shabbily dressed boy, whose beauty nonetheless shone brighter than the most luminous display.

Graves saw his profile first - sleek black hair in an unflattering bowl cut, exotic dark eyes gazing sadly into a shop window, lush pink mouth pursed in thought. He looked miles away as he stared at the unassuming set up of tree, decor and a single armchair, and the moment Graves saw him, he wanted to see his face fully. Needed to see him. He could think of no way to do so except to walk around behind him and look at his reflection in the shop window. So he did, and he gasped.

It must have drawn the boy’s attention, for his unique eyes strayed to meet his in the glass and widened. They remained like that long enough for Graves to confirm that yes, the boy’s face was entirely perfect, down to his high cheekbones and razor sharp jaw line, and the pale glow of his youthful skin. And that wide, beautiful mouth… even unsmiling, it was pure temptation.

They stared at each other indirectly in the glass, until Graves could bear it no longer, or he would have moved forward and touched the boy, who looked as if a strong wind would knock him over or a mouse frighten him. He was too fragile for someone as cold and stern as himself, Graves surmised. Much too fragile and innocent.

The moment the boy seemed to get lost in his own thoughts again, Graves did the only sensible thing he could: he escaped, vowing not to look for his star again.


	3. Serendipity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I thought I should mention what I'm listening to while writing this story: [**Warm** , by Johnny Mathis](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yDqrV4V50sI) 😍

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 3 Prompt: You better watch out

Credence could not get the stranger out of his mind.

He was clumsy serving the thin soup they had for dinner at the church, and he forgot his pamphlets the next morning and had to return for them. He knew, the way he was going, he would be in for a beating by evening. 

Normally, that would mean there would be little else occupying his thoughts all day but the dread of the pain. After all, it took no concentration to blindly hand out flyers to unwilling passersby. On this day, however, he couldn't have cared less if his Ma had given him a firm guarantee of pain to come.

And his thoughts were so focussed that his feet took him quite automatically to the vicinity of the same store he had passed the previous evening. There was little point in returning there, he knew that. Yet a small, foolishly hopeful part of him thought that, in a city the size of New York, it was the only possible chance to see that man again. Maybe he lived or worked nearby, and that was why he'd been there the night before?

It was silly, Credence knew, not to mention sinful, that his heart skipped a beat at the mere idea he might see him again, maybe even talk to him this time. What on Earth would they talk about? Would Credence offer up one of his pitiful pamphlets, and would that handsome face sport a disgusted sneer as the man pushed past him? He could think of no other possible interaction between them, and he had no intention of taking such a risk; he would not bother such a man with his Ma's hateful ideas.

He was so deep in thought, he veered out of the way of a thick crowd of people rushing towards him by simply stepping out into the street without looking. He barely even heard a woman shriek in horror, or a man's shout of warning. Even the blaring car horn barely made it through the haze of his thoughts because, the moment he heard that, strong arms were around him, and he was plucked off the road as if he was weightless.

And then he tipped forward and hit a solid mass - the man who had just saved him from being run down by a dairy truck. The man who had pulled him out of harm's way with such determination that he'd overbalanced and fallen on the snowy sidewalk, pulling Credence down on top of himself. The very man whom he'd thought of non stop since the evening before.

"You!" Credence gasped, staring wide-eyed into brown eyes looking up at him in concern, even while there was a twist of pain to the handsome features. "Sir, I'm... are you all right?"

"Am _I_ all right?" The man's voice was disbelieving, but so warm; not angry at all. "I'm not the one nearly getting myself mowed down! What were you thinking, boy?"

Credence struggled for words. After all, he was still half-lying, half-kneeling over the man on a cold city sidewalk, while feeling none of the cold he knew his saviour was experiencing. "I... I was thinking about..." He couldn't very well say 'you', so he said, "I was distracted. You shouldn't have put yourself in danger like that, sir."

The man looked utterly baffled. "Should I have let you get run over?"

"I'm not worth endangering your own life," Credence pointed out without hesitation or appeal for pity. After all, he was told of his own worthlessness daily; he did not doubt it.

The man stared at him for a moment. Then he said, so softly it was barely audible over the din of chattering onlookers around them, not to mention the traffic, "I beg to differ."

Credence blinked. He was suddenly very aware that his hands were pressed against the man's broad chest, that their faces were rather close, and that they were clinging to each other so tightly, even the winter's chill and his own barely avoided demise couldn't stop Credence's body from being delighted by his position.

He started to scramble back and up, but was hampered by the slippery ground and the fact that the man was doing little to push him off his person.

"Stay still," the deep voice told him, and he obeyed immediately. And then the man lifted him off himself, while turning and getting to his knees, before standing and drawing Credence up as well, wincing a little.

"Sir, you're hurt!" Credence looked the man up and down, this time with concern.

"Only my pride," he was told. "That wasn't one of my more elegant landings." That last was said with a deadpan expression, as if being knocked to the ground was a regular part of the man's daily life.

Credence couldn't help himself and, even while he was mortified by his own reaction, he half coughed, half laughed, and it only got worse when the rather stern face stared at him in disbelief. But then the soft-looking mouth turned up into a slight smile and, in moments, the man was laughing too.

People started walking around them at a slight distance then, as if being amused about a near fatal accident was infinitely more worrying than the actual event.

When Credence became aware that they were standing almost alone on a busy corner of 5th Avenue, and that the man, even while his eyes were still twinkling with amusement, began to look at him with a curious expression, he swallowed.

"Thank you, sir, for saving my life." His voice was polite, and maybe a little brittle with cold and recent laughter.

Dark eyes moved over Credence's face as if committing it to memory in every detail. When he spoke, the man's gentle tone was as surprising as his words. "According to a Chinese proverb, if you save a life, you become responsible for that life."

Credence blinked. "Oh," he murmured, feeling warm all over. "That's a rather nice thought."

"Yes, it is." The man smiled softly. Then he held out his right hand. "My name is Percival Graves. You're very welcome, and I'm glad I was here at the right time." He stepped a little closer. "May I know your name?"

"Credence, sir. Credence Barebone." Credence took the proffered hand. It was warm, smooth, and held his so firmly, he wished he'd never have to let go of it again.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Credence. Properly, this time."

Unable to stop his surprise from showing on his face, Credence stammered, "You mean..."

Mr Graves' smile turned a little wistful. "Oh yes, I remember you."

The way his eyes held Credence's, and the way he spoke... He could almost make himself believe Mr Graves had been thinking about him all night and day as well. But that couldn't possibly be, could it?


	4. Melting Point

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 4 Prompt: Snowman

Well, so much for those good intentions of not seeking the boy out again. Graves had lasted less than a day, and he would not lie to himself and pretend he had wandered into the same spot where he'd seen him first by chance or accident. Speaking of which, however...

He was too cynical to believe in luck, but he could not doubt fate when it had placed him right on the very spot where he was needed, at the exact right moment in time. How could the boy simply wander into the street like that? Why did he care so little for his own life to not even think it worth saving?

Graves knew with certainty now that he had been right about the boy being fragile and innocent but, far from having to stay away from him because of this, it was clear he needed to look after him. It was clear no one else was doing it, and he didn't seem to think highly enough of himself to do it.

He looked into the astonished eyes, after admitting he had noticed and remembered him from the previous evening, and he was unsure how to read the expression. The boy, Credence... what a beautiful name for such a delicate waif... looked _happy_. And apparently, he remembered him too. Graves cleared his throat.

"You look cold, Credence. And you've had a fright. Let me buy you something hot to eat. Or a least a hot drink." 

The boy blinked. "I... I don't want to be any trouble. And I have no money." He looked suddenly panicked. "Oh no, my pamphlets!" He looked around wildly, ready to sprint out into the street again when he saw some of the dropped sheets of paper flutter across the middle of 5th Avenue, and Graves had to grab his arm to stop him.

"Hey! Not this again. Leave them. They can't be that important."

Credence stared at him and, to Graves' distress, looked ready to burst into tears. "They are. If I don't hand them all out, my ma will..." He bit his lip to silence himself.

Graves looked at the fluttering papers and snorted. "Well, consider them handed out. Someone's hand may touch them yet." It was clear the boy hadn't considered this, and Graves smiled reassuringly. "Now, come on. You're much more important than whatever those flyers had to say, and I'm going to take you somewhere warm and comfortable."

* * *

Credence let himself be led down the street and into a smaller side street without further protest, the man's last sentence ringing in his ears. He doubt he would ever forget it, or the feel of the strong, warm hand around his arm; for once, he was glad of his threadbare clothes.

They came to a small coffee shop after a few minutes, tucked away between an antiques shop and a toy shop. It was old-fashioned and inviting, and they went inside. There was a fire burning in a hearth, and candles on every occupied table.

"This looks all right, doesn't it?" Mr Graves asked, and Credence nodded, surprised when a chair was pulled out for him. He quickly sat down, a blush on his cheeks, and looked up shyly when Mr Graves took the only other chair at the small table; it was nearest the fire, and the warm glow and proximity were already thawing Credence's permanently chilled body.

"Have anything you like." The narrow, twice-folded menu was pushed over in front of him, and Mr Graves smiled encouragingly.

Credence looked at his smiling lips for a little too long, then quickly glanced down, searching for the cheapest item on the menu. "Just some water, please."

Mr Graves snorted elegantly. "Water? Credence, you're so chilled, it would freeze halfway down your throat." He frowned. "You're being humble, aren't you?"

Caught out, Credence ducked his head, and didn't protest when the menu was taken from him.

"Ah, this sounds appealing." Mr Graves signalled the nearest waiter, who came to the table at once. "We'll have two Snowmen, and one Hazelnut Cream Pastry; and could you warm the pastry up, please. Wait." He looked at Credence, "You do like chocolate and hazelnut, yes?"

Credence could only imagine what either of them tasted like, and he nodded.

"Great. That's it then." 

The waiter vanished, and Mr Graves' intense gaze was back on him. "Why were those pamphlets so important?"

Credence played absently with a napkin. "They tell people about the dangers of witchcraft. Ma says witches are evil, and that they are among us every single day."

"Well, she's right about that," Mr Graves said, too calmly. "And if that was a dangerous thing, everyone would be in constant trouble now, wouldn't they?"

"Mr Graves? Do you know about witches?" Credence asked, a little fearful of the answer.

A half-smile tugged at the soft lips. "I'm not much of an expert. Wizards are more in my line." It was clear from Credence's confused look that he'd lost him, and he didn't think he should clarify just then. "What about you, have you ever met one?"

"I don't think so."

"How do you know they're evil?"

Credence drew his brows together. "I don't. It's what my ma says."

"How old are you, Credence?" Graves knew he was being rather direct, but he had more than one reason for wanting to know.

"Twenty-two, sir."

The dark brows shot up. "You're... very young." He cleared his throat. "Old enough not to listen to your ma, however."

Credence looked down, now in the process of shredding the napkin. "If I don't, she--"

"She does what?" Mr Graves watched the destruction of the napkin, only then catching a glimpse of the welts in the palms of Credence's hands. He reached for the narrow hands, taking them by the wrists, and turned them over. "This?" he asked, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed. "Is this what she does?"

Credence's hands were trembling, and he tried to close his fingers over the palms to hide the ugly injuries – clearly done with a leather strap or belt. "Yes," he murmured.

Mr Graves looked at him, not with anger as he had half expected from his initial reaction, but with worry. "You need to leave home, if this is how she treats you, Credence."

Credence shook his head. "I have nowhere to go, sir. I'm adopted, and I have no family." He hurried to add, "I'm fine, sir, really."

Looking at him somewhat helplessly, Mr Graves did not release his wrists. He quickly glanced over his shoulder, then turned back to face Credence, and whispered a few soft words.

Credence wondered why all the sounds in the coffee shop suddenly seemed to fade to a low buzz, but then he was thoroughly distracted from that minor mystery by a much bigger one. He watched as Mr Graves, whispering even more quietly, ran his thumbs over the red streaks across his palms. And he watched them vanish one by one as if they had been nothing more than smears of jam. With the red lines, the constant, residual pain disappeared too, and Credence couldn't help the whimper of relief escaping him.

Mr Graves swallowed hard, but only met his eyes when every last welt was gone. "Better?" he murmured.

Credence had no words, and no explanation for what had just happened. He nodded. "Mr Graves... thank you. How--"

The footsteps of the waiter approached then, and Mr Graves released his wrists, waving one hand almost absently, and all the sounds were back to normal.

"Gee, folks. For a moment there, I thought you'd gone. Couldn't see ya at the table," the waiter said, looking and sounding perplexed.

"Long shift?" Mr Graves suggested sympathetically.

"That must be it." The man laughed. "I guess you're still here." He set down a tall glass in front of each of them, and a plate with a huge pastry between them. "Enjoy, won't ya?" He left them to it.

Credence stared at the glasses – their contents were steaming hot, and everything in them was a creamy white colour – the thick liquid, the layer of puffy foam on top, the perfectly rounded ball of, what he assumed was, vanilla ice cream. Only the tiny, glossy black hat, jauntily placed on top of the ice cream, and the small chocolate chips stuck to the sides of it, with a piece of orange sugar candy attached between them, broke the monotony.

Mr Graves smiled. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that something called a Snowman, made of white hot chocolate, looks like this." He looked at Credence's face, and if his heart felt as if a warm hand had just squeezed it, it was nobody's business but his own.

"I've never seen anything like this," the boy said in awe, poking his spoon experimentally at the snowman's head. The tiny hat rolled off and splashed into the cream, along with one of the eyes. "Oh."

Graves couldn't help himself. He laughed. "Better eat that, before the ice cream melts and makes everything cold."

Credence looked at him, smiled, and dug in. It was delicious – the sweetness, the creaminess, the contrast of heat and chill, and finally just the hot chocolate remained in the glass, and he drank it before it could cool.

"This is yours too, hopefully still warm." Mr Graves pushed the plate with the pastry in front of Credence.

"No, please. You have that, Mr Graves. I couldn't."

"You could, and you will." When Credence looked guilty, even while eyeing the pastry longingly, Graves broke off a tiny piece. "This is plenty for me, just a taste. The rest is all yours."

"Are you sure?" Credence quickly finished the very last of the hot chocolate.

"Do I need to feed it to you?" Mr Graves threatened, but his voice didn't come out in a threatening way at all. It dropped, the words slowing, the last one no more than a breath. He stared at Credence, whose pink lips were streaked with the white chocolate and who stared at him, wide-eyed. "Jesus," he muttered, quickly reaching for one of the napkins in the holder.

Credence held perfectly still while Mr Graves leaned closer and dabbed at his mouth with the napkin, left hand holding his chin. He blushed, at first because he must have made an embarrassing mess of himself, and then because of the way Mr Graves looked at him. It made him feel warmer than the chocolate, the pastry, and the nearby fireplace combined.

"Thank you," he breathed.

"My pleasure." Mr Graves swallowed, not breaking eye contact. "Eat your pastry, Credence. Please."

The man's voice might have sounded soft and a little husky, but Credence obeyed. At least... he did once his chin was released, and Mr Graves sat back, looking as flustered as Credence felt.


	5. Believe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 5 Prompt: Believe

Credence felt warm, well-fed and comfortable as never before in his life, and something of his contentment must have shown on his face, because Mr Graves kept looking at him with such a soft, indulgent gaze that it made him quite giddy.

"Would you like anything else?" Mr Graves asked him, when he could no longer stretch out the time it took to eat the delicious pastry and had finished his last bite.

"Oh no, I couldn't," Credence said quickly.

"I don't mind at all, you know. If you're just being polite, there's no need. I enjoy watching you." Mr Graves cleared his throat. "I enjoy watching you eat. You take such delight in every morsel."

Credence ducked his head. "I couldn't eat another thing, Mr Graves, but thank you for being so kind."

Mr Graves looked at him for a long time before he spoke, and he surprised Credence with his words. "I'm not really being kind, Credence. I'm being selfish."

"Sir?"

"Credence, I want you to promise me something."

Credence nodded. "Anything, Mr Graves."

The man closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he met the boy's guileless eyes again, he said, "Well, first of all, promise me not to agree so readily to making just any promise to anyone else."

Credence blushed. "I wouldn't, sir." He meant it.

Mr Graves looked at him as if he was a very strange creature indeed. He supposed he was, since not even his foster mother loved him.

"Credence, what I wanted you to promise was to be careful. Don't run out into the street like you did earlier, and don't take risks with your life in any other way. Will you promise me that?"

"I... yes, Mr Graves, if it matters so much to you." Credence couldn't imagine why it would, but he supposed it was little enough to do for someone who had risked his own life for him.

"Of course it matters." Mr Graves looked quite distressed. He reached across the short distance of table between them and took Credence's hands in his.

Credence stared down at the large, elegant hands, now closed around his very differently to before, when he had... He had healed him, hadn't he? With just a touch. What exactly _was_ Mr Graves? He opened his mouth to ask, when the man surprised him again.

"Credence, _you_ matter." The brown eyes locked on his, and Mr Graves nodded as if to give extra emphasis to his words. "You matter a great deal, to me."

Credence stared at the man, if that's what Mr Graves was. He could heal by touch, so maybe he was something different from a mere man altogether. Maybe he was an angel? Why would he matter to an angel?

"Are you my guardian angel?" Credence voiced the only conclusion which made any sense to him.

Looking taken aback, Mr Graves grappled for words, "Is that what you believe me to be?"

"You said earlier you're responsible for me, because you saved my life. And you healed me with just a touch, so I suppose you must be."

"Your logic is impeccable." Mr Graves smiled. "And I'm flattered, Credence." He looked at him speculatively. "If I _am_ your guardian angel, will you allow for the possibility that I may yet be other things to you as well?"

Credence looked at their joined hands, hoping his thoughts didn't show on his face. He was certain Mr Graves meant they could be friends, and that was wonderful; he wished it very much. He knew it was wrong to want more, especially from his guardian angel, but he couldn't help himself. He looked up into the handsome face.

"Yes, Mr Graves. That would be nice."

"Credence, you _do_ know what I mean?" Mr Graves lifted Credence's left hand off the table, held it palm up, and pressed his lips to the soft, now quite uninjured skin.

Credence gasped. This was a sensation he had never felt in his life. And the look in Mr Graves' eyes was so... reverent, so adoring. "Mr Graves." His voice was tremulous, but his whole body felt as if it was trembling. "Am I dreaming?" He voiced a fear which suddenly took hold of him.

"Not unless we both are, my sweet boy."

The endearment was like a warm cloak wrapping around Credence's narrow shoulders, and he smiled when Mr Graves placed his hand back on the table, right next to the other, and closed both of his around both of Credence's, thumbs caressing the pulse points at his wrists. "This feels real enough to me." His voice was low and confiding, and his eyes warm on Credence's face.

"Yes," Credence breathed, knowing Mr Graves must feel the way his pulse sped up the longer his thumbs measured its beat. "More real than anything has ever felt," he admitted.

"Credence," Mr Graves said, leaning even closer across the table. "Are you willing to let me show you more of this other reality? A beautiful world you've been taught to fear?"

Credence did not need to think about it. "If you're there to guide me, I fear nothing, Mr Graves."

The answering smile was achingly soft. "To guide you and to guard you, my beautiful, brave charge."

Credence felt in another world already - a world where he meant things to someone like Mr Graves that he had never been before, and he could not wait to be shown more of it.


	6. Let It Snow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 6 Prompt: Fireplace

When they left the coffee shop, the sky had darkened. It was far from evening, barely afternoon in fact, but the promise of snow made the air heavy, and the cloud cover was complete.

Credence didn't mind, except that the temperature contrast was extreme, and he couldn't hide his immediate shivers.

"Here, take my coat. That short jacket is useless for winter," Mr Graves said, already shrugging out of his beautiful coat.

"Oh no, please, I couldn't. You'll be cold."

"No, I won't. Trust me, I can keep myself warm just fine." Mr Graves smiled. He didn't mention that the spell he was going to use would have served just as well to keep Credence warm. One magical surprise at a time. Besides, he rather enjoyed wrapping the shivering boy in his coat - which was laced with every warming and moisture repelling charm known to wizardkind.

Credence sighed when the soft wool enfolded him, along with Mr Graves' comforting scent. He smiled at him in gratitude.

"The scarf too, I think." The elegant blue scarf was wrapped around Credence's neck, and only his pink-cheeked face and head were left uncovered. "This will do, I think, until we get to the nearest safe Apparition point."

"What's that, Mr Graves?"

"You'll see." A mysterious smile played around the smooth lips, and Graves led the way down a few more side alleys, until absolutely no one was in sight, even during New York's busiest shopping month.

When Credence was stopped at the mouth of an alley, looking curiously at Mr Graves, he was told, "I'm not sure if I should tell you what I am before or after we do this, but I think I'll risk giving you a surprise." Credence blinked in confusion. "Stand very still, Credence, close your eyes, and wrap your arms around my middle. Can you do that?"

Credence nodded. Oh yes, he could certainly do that. His heart was pounding when he reached around Mr Graves's waist and closed his eyes. He was enfolded tightly, and then he felt Mr Graves' cheek against his. He breathed deeply, the man's scent stronger than ever, just like a pine forest weighed down by snow.

"This will only take a moment, and it will leave you a little dizzy, but the less you move, the easier it will be. Just stay still and let me hold you."

"Yes, Mr Graves," he agreed willingly, even though he dearly wanted to know why he would only be held close for a moment. And it certainly did make him dizzy.

But then there was a sudden rushing, pulling sensation, and his whole body, along with that of Mr Graves, seemed to vanish and reappear at once, in a different place. Credence panted, not daring to speak or move a muscle, until Mr Graves very slowly slid his hands from his back around to his sides, holding him by his upper arms, and only then stepped back.

"All right, Credence?"

Credence opened his eyes, and yes, they had... gone, somewhere different. They were inside a large room now - a living room, and he saw wide glass doors leading out to a terrace holding a bench, stone urns with evergreens, and upright lights which looked like small versions of streetlamps.

"Did we fly here?" Credence asked, and moved a little, then swayed, instantly overcome by nausea.

"Oh, damn. Come here, sit down." Mr Graves led him to the soft cream-coloured sofa and sat him down on it, settling next to him. "Apparition will do that to you the first couple of times."

"Appa--" Credence blinked.

"We didn't fly, Credence. And I'm afraid I'm not an angel. Far from it." Mr Graves smiled ruefully.

"You can't be the devil, you're much too kind!" Credence protested, even as a part of him wondered whether kindness wouldn't be exactly the means by which the devil would beguile the unwary.

"Of course not." Mr Graves reached for Credence's lapel - the lapel of the coat - and rummaged for an inside pocket. He pretended not to notice Credence's furious blush when his knuckles brushed his chest. He extracted his hand holding a black wand, and aimed it at the cold, unlit fireplace. "Incendio!" he said, and the kindling around the logs flared to life, the flames instantly engulfing the wood.

Credence gasped, then stared at him. "You're a witch!"

"Well, a wizard, strictly speaking, but yes."

Gulping, Credence looked at the fire, then at Graves - who gave him a careful, reassuring smile, then down at the wand in his hand. "May I touch it?"

"I wish you would." Mr Graves' voice was husky. "You see, I have a theory about you, Credence."

"Oh?"

Mr Graves held the wand out to him and, when Credence touched a hesitant finger to it, he covered his hand and curled it around it. Then he looked around, and reached for an empty glass on the side table. He held it in his hand and said, "Point the wand at the glass, and say, very clearly: Aguamenti."

Credence looked surprised, but more curious than scared, and did as he was told. When the glass filled with water, and then promptly overflowed, right over Mr Graves' hand, knee and onto his nice, thick blue carpet, he jumped. "I'm sorry!"

Mr Graves laughed, and took the wand from Credence's shaking fingers. Then he sat the glass down, and spelled the floor and himself dry. "No harm done." He smiled at Credence.

"Did I just do magic? Can anyone do it?"

"Certainly not. You can do magic, Credence, because you are a wizard. Like I am." When Credence looked baffled, Mr Graves said, "I felt your magic when I touched your hands. It's very strong, actually, and you haven't yet learned to control it."

Credence gulped. "I'm magical..." he whispered, a slow smile curving his lips upward as he looked at the roaring fire, and the full glass of water, and then Mr Graves, whose eyes seemed to be dancing with all the joy he himself felt.

"You certainly are." Mr Graves cupped his right cheek. "In more ways than one."

Credence felt himself blush and wondered whether Mr Graves could feel the heat under his skin. "Is that why you didn't need the coat?" he asked, putting two and two together. "Did you keep warm with magic?"

Nodding, Mr Graves let his hand slide off Credence's cheek and stood. "Let me show you."

When Credence stood too, he slowly pushed his coat off the boy's shoulders, and unwrapped the scarf from his neck, leaning close as he did so, and dropped both onto the sofa. Then he led him to the glass doors, and slid one open, and they stepped out into the winter air.

Before Credence even had the time to start shivering, Graves used his wand to draw an arc in the air above them and said, "Calidum!" And the air around them both warmed to a very pleasant temperature immediately.

"Oh, Mr Graves!" Credence exclaimed, shivering after all, but with pleasure. They stood high above New York, on a penthouse terrace - Mr Graves in shirt sleeves; he in his thin, worn jacket; and it was like summer, except for the thin layer of snow on the ground. He smiled. "I wish it would snow right now."

Mr Graves whispered something which sounded like, "Meteolojinx," and snow flakes began to fall down on them. It was as if they stood inside a snow globe - no snow fell even a few feet away.

Credence beamed at Mr Graves, who watched with a smile as he turned his face up and opened his mouth to catch the flakes on his tongue, then immediately snapped his jaw shut and asked, "Is it real snow?"

Laughing, Mr Graves assured him it was. He stepped closer, reaching out to slide his left hand around the nape of Credence's neck. "Why? Does it not taste like real snow?"

"It does," Credence said, swallowing around the cool moisture. "I was just... making sure." His words were halting, his heart pounding, as Mr Graves looked into his eyes, his right hand now moving around his waist below the jacket. "Because... you said I was not to... take chances."

"You're so good, Credence," Mr Graves murmured, fingers tangling in the hair at the back of Credence's head. "Keeping your promise like that."

Gulping, Credence asked, "Mr Graves, am I bewitched?"

"Bewitched?" Mr Graves smiled.

"Am I under your spell?" Credence's eyes moved wildly up and down between Mr Graves' eyes and his mouth. "I so very much want you... want you to..."

"What do you want me to do, darling? Tell me, and I'll do it." 

Credence whimpered, at the words and the feel of Mr Graves' fingers curling around the curve of his back.

"If anyone is under a spell, it's me. One look at you yesterday, and you had me enchanted."

Credence was breathing irregularly, and feeling Mr Graves' breath on his face - warm despite the snow fluttering down around them. "Please, Mr Graves, will you kiss me? I know it's forbidden, and unholy, and--"

Mr Graves' mouth silenced the words and turned them into moans - sweet, soft moans melting between them like the hapless snowflakes touching warm cheeks and eager lips.

They clung to each other, and not for warmth. Credence pressed so close, Mr Graves groaned into the open, delicious heat of his mouth, starting a tentative exploration with his tongue once he felt Credence yield entirely to his kiss. When Credence responded with whimpers, fingers clutching desperately at his shoulders, and an undeniable hardness pressing against Graves' hip, he intensified its foray, playing with Credence's tongue until they were both desperate for air.

A few quick gasps were all they allowed themselves and each other, and a "please" and "Merlin, yes", before their wet lips met again, fitted perfectly to each other - Mr Graves' gentle yet firm, Credence's soft and yielding. The boy was so responsive, and his own body was acting half its age, Mr Graves started to wonder whether they were not both under a spell after all - maybe that No-maj hot chocolate had been drugged?

"Oh, sir," Credence whimpered, moving against Graves, eliciting a pained groan.

"Darling, stop," Graves placed his hands firmly on Credence's hips, holding him still to stop his frantic movements.

"I'm sorry," Credence whispered, peering at him from the dark pools he called eyes.

"No, darling, there's nothing to be sorry for." Graves laughed softly, resting his face against the boy's neck and taking the opportunity to press a kiss to the smooth skin. "You've done nothing wrong. Quite the opposite. You're... wonderful, Credence. Just a little too exciting for my self-restraint."

Credence opened his mouth to speak, but Mr Graves nudged his hips against him, just briefly, and the dark eyes widened. "Oh. I thought it was just me."

Raising one hand to brush the black hair from Credence's forehead, Mr Graves said tenderly, "I don't even have the words to tell you how sweet you are."

Credence, instead of responding in words, leaned in and rested his head on Graves' shoulder with a sigh, smiling at the sensation of stroking fingertips in his hair.


	7. Promises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 7 Prompt: Memories

Graves led Credence back inside, closing the door and spelling a few candles around the room alight. Isolated flakes were actually beginning to fall now, and the sky was a solid grey. The additional small light sources gave the living room a soft glow.

He went to sit on the sofa, reaching up to draw Credence down beside himself, but his brows rose when the boy sank down to sit on the floor instead.

Credence looked up at him guilelessly, and rested his cheek on his knee, and Mr Graves sat back, resuming the tender stroking over the dark hair.

"This is so nice."

"Yes, it is." Graves smiled. "I suppose you have many questions, Credence."

"About magic?"

"About anything. Ask me, and I will answer to the best of my abilities." 

Credence raised one hand and absently stroked it over Mr Graves' knee beside his cheek. When he heard a sharp gasp, he stilled the movement, assuming Mr Graves was ticklish. "How did I come to be a... a wizard?"

"Do you know anything of your birth parents?" Graves asked.

"No, nothing except what ma told me. That my mother was a wicked, unnatural woman."

Graves scoffed. "A witch then, I assume, by your ma's definition. We all have magical ancestry, even when we didn't inherit the gift from our parents."

"Is it a gift?"

"Don't you think it is?" Graves was surprised.

Credence shifted to set down his chin on his knee. "Just making sure." He smiled gently, and Mr Graves smiled back. "You healed me, and you made it snow, and you created warmth... those are not evil things."

"I won't pretend there are no wizards and witches who use their powers for evil, Credence, but magic itself is not inherently evil."

"Ma would never believe that."

"I imagine not, but I only care about what you think." Mr Graves played with his hair. "Tell me, Credence."

Credence peered up at him. "I believe it. And I believe in you. And I want to learn from you, anything you can teach me, Mr Graves. Anything you want to teach me."

"Mercy Lewis," Graves muttered. "You say such innocent things, and then I look into your eyes, and I see how you look at me," he cleared his throat, "and I don't know if I'm just reading meanings into your words that I wish were there."

Credence reached up his left hand and placed it on Graves' chest hesitantly. "I wasn't just talking about magic, Mr Graves."

Graves took a deep breath, lifting the hand and intertwining their fingers. "You weren't?"

Credence shook his head.

Graves said, "Come here, Credence. Come closer."

Credence eagerly shifted to his knees, stretching up to reach around Graves' neck. "If there are other things you want to teach me, I'll be the best student there ever was. I promise."

"And I already know you keep your promises well." Graves voice was a low rumble, and he wrapped his arms around Credence's waist and drew him close. He shut his eyes and suppressed a moan when Credence's flat stomach pressed against him.

"I thought about this yesterday, when I saw that window display," Credence murmured unexpectedly, close to his ear. "I imagined you in that arm chair, waiting for me, beckoning me closer."

"You did?" Graves sounded surprised. "And I stood there watching you, wondering what was so fascinating about that hideous arm chair you were so focused on."

Credence laughed softly. "Nothing, just the idea of you in it."

"To think you wished this far ahead."

"Oh no, I didn't get this far, but... I would have, if you hadn't vanished so suddenly." Credence's voice got quiet. "I thought I'd never see you again."

"Yet here we are." Graves moved Credence just far enough back to look at him. "I guess you can't argue with fate." The boy looked at him with wide, adoring eyes. "Magic lessons can wait, I think." He swallowed.

"Yes. I've done without it for 22 years."

Graves didn't point out that Credence had done without the other kind of lessons all that time as well. He'd be a fool to mention that when the boy was happy to ignore it. He let his eyes roam over the beautiful face; each feature might have been designed to his specifications of perfection.

The boy tilted his head on the side, looking at him questioningly.

Graves smiled. "I'm just drinking in the sight of you. I doubt you know how perfectly lovely you are."

"I'm not." Credence blushed.

"First lesson: never argue with your teacher!" Graves said firmly, and Credence smiled. "Those eyes, so dark and curious. And that mouth - any number of sins come into my mind looking at your mouth, Credence."

"Mr Graves," Credence croaked.

"Luckily, I don't believe in sin." Graves smiled. "Otherwise, I'd have to worry about your skin too - it's so soft and pale, I can't help wondering what it would take to make you flushed all over."

Credence's breathing was noticeably quicker. "The way you're talking is doing that, Mr Graves."

"Really? That doesn't seem possible. Let me check." Graves gently pushed Credence's short jacket off his shoulders and down his arms, and set it aside. The boy did not protest, nor did he when Graves undid his narrow tie and cast it aside, nor when he unbuttoned his waistcoat and removed it. Then he began to unbutton his simple white shirt, all the way down to the belt and waistband of his trousers, and Credence was perfectly still, apparently not daring to breathe even as his bare chest and stomach were slowly revealed.

"There may be a bit of a flush there. It's hard to tell in this light." Graves drew the shirt out of the trousers and divested Credence of it. "Hmm, yes there is. Amazing." He traced his fingers along the prominent collarbones, then let them flutter lightly over the narrow but now straight shoulders, shivering almost as much as Credence at the contact.

"Sir," Credence's voice was little more than a tremulous sigh.

"Is it okay that I'm touching you?" Graves asked, his eyes tracking every caress his fingers were bestowing. When Credence nodded, he ran his palms down the thin arms, seeing goose bumps forming in their wake. He kept his hands on Credence's elbows and shifted to the edge of the sofa. "What about kissing all this lovely skin, would that be okay too?"

"Oh, please." Credence pleaded with his words, his eyes, and his whole body, leaning forward.

Graves smiled and kissed the base of the long neck, which arched under his lips. Flickers of firelight danced on it, and he chased them up and to the side, and then tracked them to Credence's left shoulder, where his kisses veered inward and down. The gentle lips quirked up at the uneven, sparse chest hairs, and made straight for an extremely tempting, peaked nipple.

Credence gasped when it was drawn between Graves' lips, and his head fell back when warm hands abandoned his elbows for his waist, and the smooth fingertips slid under his waistband. "Mr Graves..." He sounded urgent.

"What is it, darling?" was whispered against his sternum. 

"Won't you teach me to please you? I mean to... to pleasure you?" The soft cheeks reddened.

Mr Graves looked at him and gave him a slow smile. "We'll get to that. Don't you think it's also an important lesson to learn how beautiful _you_ are?"

"But I'm... do you really think so?" Credence drew his brows together, clearly torn between his view of himself and his inability to doubt the man looking at him with such admiration.

Mr Graves moved his right hand and took Credence's, pressing it over the firm swell of his hardness, obvious even through the heavy wool trousers. When Credence gulped, he said roughly, "This is what it does to me to touch you, kiss you, see you react to me. So what do you think, Credence?"

"I think..." Credence dared to tighten his grip a little under Graves' hand, eliciting a low groan. He whimpered a little in sympathy, his expression desperate. "I can't think at all, Mr Graves, when you're touching me, and letting me do this. All I want to do is _feel_ things I've never felt before."

Graves somehow managed to get them both to their feet, and stood looking at Credence for a long moment. "Then feel you shall, my sweet boy, every wonderful sensation I can coax from you. And that's my promise to you."

Credence smiled, his eyes alight and, when Mr Graves took his hand and led him down a hallway towards an open door, beyond which he saw the corner of a bed, he knew with certainty that Mr Graves too would keep his promise.


	8. Music Lesson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 8 Prompt: Music
> 
> [This is the music box tune](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JsmzliciYbk), which wasn't known to muggles until 4 years after this story, and this Sasha Distel version is even later, but it's the loveliest. ;)

As they entered the bedroom, Mr Graves said, "Accio candelabra!"

Credence watched wide-eyed as an elaborate candelabra followed them down the hallway from the living room, and was caught in midair by Mr Graves. He watched him deposit it above the black marble fireplace opposite the foot of the bed, and spell it, and the fire, alight.

He began to look around the room, which was beautifully decorated, and focused on the wide bed with it's inviting cream and black sheets and elaborately turned wooden posts.

Mr Graves let him take it all in, watching his face in the combined light of the candles and the snowy afternoon light entering through the single window. Then he saw him spot the Baroque music box on the mantel and trace his fingers over its gilded edge.

"Open it."

Credence smiled at him and did. A French song, not nearly as old as the music box, and bound to be appropriated by the non-magical community sooner or later, began to play, and Graves gasped in recognition. This was a magical music box, enchanted to play the song to perfectly match the moment when it was opened.

"What's the song?" Credence asked softly.

"It's called _Parlez-moi d'amour_." Graves translated, "Speak to me of love."

Credence looked at him, moving closer, his long fingers tracing over the buttons of Graves' waistcoat without daring to undo them.

Graves lifted his hand, kissing his finger tips one by one, then lead him to the bed. "Sit down," he instructed gently.

Credence obeyed, taking a sharp breath when Mr Graves knelt in front of him and began to undo his belt, and then his trouser buttons.

After pressing a light kiss to Credence's belly, which made him gasp in surprise, he said, "Lie back," and Credence sank back into the soft bedding at once, looking up at the fire lights on the ceiling, but then at Mr Graves bending over him, lifting his hips as he pulled his trousers and underwear down, pausing only to remove his shoes and socks, before sliding them over his feet and sending them across the room to land on a chair.

Credence closed his eyes, flushing deeply, but he opened them again when Mr Graves said, "So beautiful. So, so very beautiful." He nearly cried then, because the words were said so reverently, they had to be meant from the bottom of Mr Graves' heart.

"Please," Credence said, pleading for anything at all, as he had no idea what to expect. He did not expect Mr Graves to shift him further across the bed, place one knee on it, and bend over him to gently wrap a hand around his half-hard cock and kiss the tip. He might have cried out.

"Shh, it's okay, darling. It'll be a bit much the first time." Mr Graves used his free hand to lightly stroke his belly as if to calm him, then closed his lips around the rosy flesh, just holding it in his mouth while Credence trembled and grasped at the sheets. Then he began to suck, moving a little further down the shaft slowly but surely, his hand squeezing a little.

Credence knew he was leaking into Mr Graves' mouth, he could feel it, but Mr Graves didn't seem to mind at all, he just hummed soothingly, sucking and stroking again and again, as if he wanted more of the taste. Credence couldn't have withheld it from him if he'd tried. He felt as if Mr Graves was expertly draining all he had to give, except there was more, so much more yet to come, and he tried to warn him, because surely, he wouldn't want...

Mr Graves let go of him just long enough to say, "Don't hold back, darling. Give me everything."

And Credence whimpered, the sheets in a death grip as he felt it building inside him, and Mr Graves' mouth was back on him, drawing him even deeper, and he came and came, gasping and shuddering and pleading until there was no more, and Mr Graves slowly and gently released his limp flesh to slide up alongside him, still fully dressed, and smiled at him.

"Feeling nice and relaxed now?" The deep voice seemed smoother than ever, and Credence blushed, nodding. And then Mr Graves leaned down and kissed him, sharing the taste – which was strange, but not unpleasant – and stroking his face and hair.

"Mr Graves, may I do that to you?"

Mr Graves gazed at him from half-lidded eyes. "Are you sure you want to?"

"Oh yes." Credence scrambled and squirmed until he was kneeling on the bed, fumbling with Graves' many buttons. He made an impatient noise which made Graves laugh, and gave him a pleading look.

One spell later, Mr Graves was as naked as he was, and his clothes had joined Credence's on the chair.

"Please teach me that soon," Credence said, awed at both the spell and the body now laid out beside him – so handsome, so much more muscular and interesting than his own.

"I have a feeling you'll be learning all the interesting spells first," Mr Graves said, amused, but his laugh was aborted and turned into a gasp when Credence began to trace both hands over his chest and stomach, exploring slowly even while he could clearly not take his eyes off the thick, hard cock begging for attention.

"May I... do anything I like?" Credence asked.

Graves wondered if it was possible Credence might make him come just by asking him innocent questions like that. He wouldn't be at all surprised. "Anything you like, my darling."

Credence looked into his eyes, then back down, and grasped his cock in both hands. He shifted back a little on his knees and bent forward, poking out his tongue for an experimental taste.

"Great Merlin," Graves sighed, wondering whether he would even outlast Credence at this rate. Should he not watch that eager expression and those tender pink lips? Would it help? No, the temptation was too great, and Credence must have realised how much harder that tentative lick to his tip had left him, because he pursed his luscious lips and closed them around the entire tip, suckling on it as if it was an ice cream cone.

Graves' fingers found their way into the soft dark curls without him even being aware of it, but it seemed to spur Credence on, making him draw on him harder, flicking his tongue out within the heat of his mouth and, probably accidentally, teasing the slit mercilessly.

"You'd better stop," Graves warned, but either the boy didn't hear or didn't care to hear, and his fingers played with his base while that perfect mouth tried to devour as much of his cock as he could fit in it. "Credence, I really-- uh!" 

Credence's eyes widened impossibly, and he swallowed as quickly as he could to keep up, spluttering a little, but not giving up easily. Eventually, he could take no more, and the last two spurts landed on his face – streaking his cheeks and chin.

"I'm so sorry. Come here, let me clean you up." Graves reached out to him and drew him into his arms.

Credence came willingly, licking his lips. He didn't look horrified at all, which was what Graves had expected, but incredibly pleased.

"Sweet boy, you're a wonder," Graves praised.

Credence smiled his brightest smile, and when Graves brushed his fingers over his cheeks to vanish his seed, the boy took hold of his hand before he could even say the spell and licked the residue off his fingertips.

"Credence..." Graves was in awe. What had he done to deserve this boy?

He was about to ask when Credence promised, with lowered lashes and a soft smile, "I'll do better next time, teacher."


	9. Inspiration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 9 Prompt: Gift
> 
> _I didn't manage 2 chapters today after all, and this one isn't as sweet and well-behaved as I meant it to be. Sorry not sorry. :)_

Graves cupped the boy's face. "You want to do better? Darling, I'm not sure I could take that." He smiled at the bashful expression, but also at the pride shining in the dark eyes. "Come here, just let me hold you for a bit."

Credence snuggled against him, sighing at the feel of so much bare skin against his, and how warm and comforting it was to be held with such care. But he felt the man's strength too, and he let his fingers trail over the broad shoulder not supporting his head, and traced the muscular arm lying half across Mr Graves body to wrap around him. He closed his eyes and inhaled the spicy, masculine scent surrounding him like a blanket.

"Comfortable?" Mr Graves murmured.

"Very." Credence smiled against the chest rising and falling slowly, listened to the steady heart beat as if it was a lullaby just for him, and wondered if there was a spell that could make him hear it anytime, wherever he was. "Mr Graves?"

"You can call me Percival, if you like."

"Oh. I would like to."

Graves kissed his temple. "What did you want to ask?"

"I feel a little silly."

His chin was tipped up, and kind eyes met his. "Credence, you can ask me anything you like, and for anything you like. I'll never think you silly."

Credence smiled. "I was wondering... is there a spell that can let me listen to your heart beat when I'm not near you?" He blushed, sure it did sound silly now that it was out.

Graves swallowed hard and just kept looking at him, his eyes so soft, Credence became half convinced he saw moisture glistening in them. "I wish there was, darling." The deep voice sounded a little choked.

Credence stroked the handsome face lightly. "It's okay. It was just a thought."

"A beautiful thought."

The arms around Credence tightened, and he was drawn further up the bed, until his torso was lying fully against the broad chest and his face hovered above Graves'.

"I'm going to make something for you. I don't know if it's going to work." Credence listened attentively. "There's something we have in the Wizarding world called a port key - it can transport you to a particular place in an instant when you touch it. I'm going to try and make a touch key. I'll have to charm two objects to respond to your touch, and to mine and, if it works, we should be able to feel each other wherever we are."

"Oh, Mr... Percival!" Credence kissed the lips below him excitedly, and then did it again when Graves laughed against his mouth.

That time, fingers wound into his hair and the back of his head was cupped, and his frantic kisses turned into soft gasps when Mr Graves' mouth responded, opening to allow him access to the warm cavern. And it was different, when he was on top, as if the man beneath him was drinking his kisses, letting them pour into him like precious wine.

Graves moaned against the eager mouth, tasting himself mingled with Credence's sweet breath. There was even still a trace of creamy chocolate there, and it was a potent mix. He hooked his leg over Credence's and pulled him across so their hips ground against each other and, when the boy whimpered into the kiss, he reached down and cupped his buttocks, squeezing them until he felt Credence harden again, and the mouth on his went slack.

"The perks of being so young," Graves panted against the open mouth. "Go on, darling, use my body any way you like."

Credence whined, his eyes focusing on Graves', his expression desperate. "I can wait, I don't mind. Or..." He kissed the man's cheek, nipped at his jaw line, flicked his tongue against the lobe of his ear, "I can help." The series of well-meaning but uncoordinated attempts to bring about a quicker recovery time would have amused Graves, except it... worked.

"Sweet Circe!" he groaned, when Credence twitched his hips down hard, just as he nibbled on Graves' throat, his cock lining up perfectly with its now once again far from limp counterpart. Graves bucked up, lifting their hips off the bed a few inches, and grit his teeth when Credence all but squealed. He tightened his hands on the soft globes of his arse, spreading them a little and holding Credence still at the same time, and then he took charge of their rhythm, murmuring a lubrication spell for even more ease in sliding against each other, and it was perfect.

Credence, held firm as he was, shivered on top of him, his neck alternately arching back and curving down in surrender when his head fell against the side of Graves' neck. "So good," he gasped. "Please, please!"

"Come for me, darling. Let me feel you come all over my cock."

Credence cried out in surrender, throbbing against him, and Graves vaguely made a mental note of how well Credence responded to sensual commands. But then his body responded to Credence's release, and he added his own to the series of spurts against his groin and belly, and they were soon reduced to a few last, jolting twitches before collapsing into each other's arms like a pair of very sticky rag dolls.

"Well," Graves gasped.

Credence merely sighed, but Graves was already familiar enough with the shape of his lovely mouth to feel him smiling against the side of his neck.


	10. Do You Feel What I Feel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 10 Prompt: Do you see what I see (I twisted this somewhat to fit my storyline.)

By the time Percival had spelled them both clean, Credence was dozing against his neck. He settled him comfortably in his arms and held him close for a long while. The room was warm, and not needing to draw the duvet over the boy meant he could enjoy the sight of the smooth, pale skin, given a healthy glow by the fireplace.

It was hard to believe how much had changed in less than 24 hours. Yesterday, he had been a lonely, cynical man who cared little whether the apartment he returned to after work was warm and inviting or merely comfortably functional.

The candelabra now on the bedroom mantel had been on top of a cupboard and had hosted unlit candles for months, if not years. He didn't remember a time when the music box had played a song that was romantic and sweet; he was used to opening it to sorrowful Blues or something discordant in a minor key. And at no point had it ever occurred to him that what he missed most in the world was the company of an angel.

He stroked his fingers through the soft black hair and sighed. Credence was as innocent and vulnerable as he looked, for all his eagerness to touch and be touched, and Percival wanted nothing more than to protect him. It was so very tempting, to ask him to simply stay with him, to never go back to a place where someone who should care for him attempted to beat hatred into his sweet soul. And he would ask him to stay, in a heartbeat, but he feared Credence might feel an obligation to him; he wouldn't know whether it was gratitude or the boy's genuine wish.

And Credence had asked him for a token which would let him _feel_ his presence when he wasn't there; which meant he intended to leave. There was some reason why he felt compelled to go back to his foster home, and Percival decided he was going to find out why, but he would go about it gently. Pressing his lips against the boy's temple tenderly, he fought not to tighten his embrace too much.

Eventually, he reluctantly stirred. He had offered Credence something to ease their time apart, and it was time he started to work on it. He extracted himself from the hold of the slim arms and replaced his body heat with the duvet, wrapping it around Credence like a cloud. He smiled down at him as he dressed, then went about creating a pair of magic items he sincerely hoped would work.

* * *

Credence woke up from his nap feeling warm and refreshed, and he only slowly became conscious of how very different his bed was to the one he was used to - this was soft and luxurious, not a hard, lumpy mattress without so much as a clean sheet over the top of it. And he was completely naked within the plush bedding. He sat up quickly, barely able to see the fireplace over the thick duvet and the high foot of the bed. Oh. Oh! He was in Mr Graves' bedroom. In Percival's bedroom.

He licked his lips - bruised and plush from so many kisses. And he gasped softly at the memory of what else they had done aside from kissing. He blushed at how shamelessly wanton he had behaved, and only the fact that Percival had been more than happy to indulge him made him feel less embarrassed about it. He felt as if after more than 20 years of practically no closeness and touch, to be offered both so freely and tenderly had opened floodgates inside him.

Where was Percival? A little twinge of disappointment that he had woken up alone was quickly suppressed when he glanced towards the bedroom window and realised it was dark. He suppressed a cry, suddenly terrified of just how late he would be returning to the church, and how he would be made to suffer for it.

He got up quickly and hurried to dress. Then he took a few sips of water from the glass that had been left on the bedside table, before making his way out of the bedroom and back to the living room by following the soft glow of a floor lamp.

"Hello, sleeping beauty." Percival, once more dressed, but in shirt and trousers only, greeted him with a smile. He held two thin silver necklaces in his hands, each with a tiny charm. His wand sat on the table in front of him.

Credence flushed. "I'm sorry I fell asleep. I... What time is it?"

"Just before eight."

"Oh no!" Credence felt his stomach drop with a sickening feeling. "I need to go home. I'll be in so much trouble!" He looked terrified, his whole body tensed up.

Percival reached out a hand to him. "Don't worry, I can ensure you won't be."

"How?"

"Altering short term memories is quite easy." Percival smiled. "Come here, Credence, sit with me."

"Oh." Credence went to him, and took the offered hand.

Percival drew him down beside himself on the sofa and leaned in to kiss him. He felt the tension and worry draining from Credence as they kissed, and the boy was soon leaning into him, his arms around his middle. He reluctantly released the soft lips, and the boy sighed gently.

"That's better." Percival smiled at him, and Credence returned the smile.

"What are you doing?" Credence asked, eyeing the necklaces curiously.

"Making the touch keys I promised. I think they'll work. Shall we try?" When Credence nodded, Percival placed the chain with the little sun charm around his neck. It was very long and would easily be hidden by anything he might wear.

Credence looked down at it and lifted the small silver sun in his hand, gazing at it curiously.

Percival gasped. "I think it works." His lips quirked up in a smile, and he put the other necklace on himself. Then he looked at Credence and lifted the small moon charm between his thumb and index finger. When Credence's eyes widened, he raised it to his lips and placed a light kiss on it.

"Oh!" Credence shivered, and his mouth dropped open. "But that feels..."

"As if I'm kissing you all over?"

Credence nodded. He raised the sun charm and, with his eyes closed, rested it against his plush lips, smiling when he heard Percival's soft hum of delight. When he opened his eyes again, Percival was looking at him expectantly.

"What do you think, darling?"

"This is perfect."

"Almost perfect. Having you here with me is perfect."

Credence lowered his eyes. "Yes." His voice sounded choked.

Percival covered his hands where they had fallen to his lap. "I mean it, Credence. You don't have to go back. I would love for you to stay. Now, or at any other time, if you change your mind."

When Credence looked up again, there were tears in his eyes, and Percival cursed himself for having spoken of this too soon, and after he had firmly told himself not to.

"I want to, but I can't. Thank you for offering, Percival." Credence sniffed. "Thank you so much."

Percival swallowed the words dying to make it past his lips. He would not force this, nor would he make demands. It was clear enough Credence had been living a life without choices, and he would not add to his pressures.

"May I... come back? Here, to you?" Credence asked carefully. "To... visit?"

Breathing a sigh of relief, Percival said, "Of course you may. Anytime." He tipped up Credence's chin. "Any day I see you will be so much brighter for your company."

Credence's lips parted. "Percival, I... I think I..."

Percival held his breath. When Credence couldn't quite muster the courage to say the words, he smiled, and placed his index finger across the pink lips. "I feel the same way, darling."

And Credence moved forward, sliding into his embrace and clinging to him as if he never wanted to let go.


	11. Comfort and Joy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 11 Prompt: Comfort and Joy

Credence was back home, and the church had never felt less like a home than after the comfort of Percival's apartment.

At least punishment had been avoided. Percival had simply walked in with him, told him to hurry to his room and, before Mary Lou had managed to say more than, "What is this? Just who--" Percival had erased her memories of the past few hours. He had done the same with Chastity, who had been folding flyers at the table. Modesty had already been in bed.

Credence sighed. It had been nearly an hour now, and he was still wide awake, missing Percival as if a limb had been torn from him. He had thought he could handle coming back here to the constant, bone-chilling cold, the tension and fear, and the threat of punishment for even the tiniest, and usually imagined, infraction. Now that he _was_ back, he wasn't so sure. He turned on his side, trying to get comfortable on the thin, uneven mattress and the creaky wire bed.

There was a very quiet knock on the door, and his heart leapt up into his throat. "Yes?" he asked. It couldn't be ma, she didn't bother knocking.

Modesty sneaked in on bare feet, a small threadbare blanket around her shoulders. "Are you awake, Credence?" she whispered.

"Yes, Modesty." He sat up. "Can't you sleep?"

She shook her head. "It's so cold."

He folded back his worn blanket, and she quickly slipped under it with him. "I know," he said. "I'm cold too." Modesty was shivering, and he hugged her close.

"Who was that man who brought you home before?" she asked, and Credence's hands stilled.

"You were awake then?"

"Yes, I was worried about you when it got late, so I hid at the top of the stairs, waiting. I saw him wave his arm towards ma and Chastity, and they both looked strange, and then he left." She suppressed a sneeze by rubbing her nose. "Was he a policeman?"

Credence scrambled for an explanation. "No, he's... a very nice man," he said weakly.

"Did he hurt ma and Chastity?"

"Of course not!" Credence looked down at her with a frown.

"I didn't think so. Is he your friend?"

Sighing, Credence said, "Yes. A very good friend." He scrambled for the right thing to say without scaring her. "Modesty, you can't tell Chastity or ma about him, do you hear? They... they won't remember he was here, so _please_ , don't mention him."

She sat up eagerly. "Why won't they remember? He looked very nice and kind. I'd remember him."

"I know." Credence held her by the shoulders. "This is very important, Modesty. He _made_ them forget. So I wouldn't get in trouble for coming home late."

"That was nice of him." She blinked. "But how did he make them forget?"

Credence chewed his lower lip. "I'm not sure," he said honestly.

"Oh, Credence, do you think he's a witch?" She sounded excited, rather than horrified.

He didn't like to lie to his little sister, but he couldn't let anything happen to Percival. The less she knew, the better. "I don't think so, Modesty." He tried to smile, to pretend the idea was just too silly, but he'd never been able to fool her.

"I think he is a witch." She snuggled into his arms. "Imagine, if he is, maybe he could save us--"

Credence covered her mouth. He thought he'd heard a board creaking in their foster mother's room above. He whispered urgently, "If she's awake, she's going to check and make sure we're asleep. Hurry back to your bed, Modesty."

She nodded, clambering out of his bed. This was a familiar routine.

"Will you be warm enough now?" Credence asked. "Take my blanket too."

"No. You'll be cold. I'm okay with this." She wrapped up again and said, "Night, Credence."

"Night, little one."

She could only just have made it back to her own tiny room when he heard ma come down the stairs, and he faced away from the door, blanket up to his chin and eyes tightly closed. His door creaked open – his was always the first room to be checked - but he managed to stay motionless and breathe quietly even when ma came in and stared at him over his shoulder for a good minute or more.

Once she'd left, and checked Modesty's room, and then Chastity's just briefly, she went back upstairs to her own bed, and he finally dared breathe a sigh of relief.

He fumbled for the necklace inside his nightshirt, shivering. Percival had told him he would only touch his own if Credence did so first, as he would not risk suddenly surprising Credence at a bad time and having him be caught reacting to his touch.

It was so late by now, he felt bad for using it; Percival was bound to be asleep. But he felt tears stinging at the corners of his eyes, and he felt so lonely and cold. He hoped Percival would understand. He'd told him to never hesitate for a moment if he needed his touch - day or night.

Credence cupped the little sun charm very lightly, in case Percival was asleep. But the answering touch came immediately, almost as if he had been waiting for his sign. Instantly, he felt as if Percival's arms were closing around him. He sobbed almost silently into his pillow, squeezing the charm more tightly and, moments later, felt the sensation of lips on his forehead, cheeks and mouth. He closed his eyes, letting the kisses wash over him and guide him into the world of dreams.

Before sleep claimed him completely, he remembered Percival asking him if he'd prefer the moon charm, and telling him that no, Percival's warmth was like the sun to him. For this, he'd been kissed deeply and lovingly.

* * *

When Credence woke the next morning, he was still clutching the sun against his chest, and his whole body felt warmer than ever before under his thin, ragged blanket. Percival must have held the charm all night too. He sighed, pressing a soft good morning kiss to it, and slipping it into his nightshirt, before getting up to face the day.

For once, he felt he could.


	12. An Important Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to cheat and swap prompts for days 12 and 13, because it suits my purposes and I can, and who's going to stop me? ;p
> 
> Day 13 Prompt: Frost

Chastity had been busy the previous evening, and there were more flyers than ever to be handed out. They were given the usual instructions to not dare bring any home, or throw them away, and were then sent on their way in different directions.

After the new snow the day before, the night had been clear, very cold and frosty. The air itself felt like ice and, as usual, Credence's stomach hurt. The heavily diluted gruel ma gave them for breakfast was neither nourishing nor tasty, and it barely gave the illusion of fullness for more than an hour. None of them ever asked for seconds; they knew better.

Today, Credence's physical discomfort didn't bother him too much. He headed for the department store on 5th Avenue, a skip in both his step and his heart. Once he arrived, he looked around and, finding himself unobserved, lifted out the necklace and pressed 3 quick, light kisses to the sun charm. It was the signal he had arranged with Percy.

It took almost twenty minutes before Credence saw him appear around the corner, and his heart leapt with joy.

Percy was smiling, waved him over, and they both made straight for the side alley they had gone down yesterday. Credence found himself passing a recessed doorway, just wondering where Percy had got to, when he was pulled into the narrow space and found himself instantly surrounded by Percy's scent and body heat.

"Darling," Percy whispered, and kissed him, holding him almost painfully tight.

Credence didn't mind a bit. He hung on, one arm around his neck, the other buried under the warmth of the open coat. He whimpered softly, feeling as if he'd walked from an icehouse right into a furnace, and he felt himself melting more with each passing moment of their kiss.

Eventually, Percy released his lips reluctantly. "I'm sorry it took me so long to get here. I was in the middle of a meeting, and I had to come up with an explanation for not only my sudden happiness at your little invisible kisses, but for vanishing for the rest of the day."

Credence smiled. "The rest of the day? Really?"

Percy nodded. "Work can wait, but I couldn't wait to see you again."

"Me too," Credence admitted, sighing at a tender kiss to his cheek.

"You're so cold," Percy murmured against the chilled skin, voice full of concern. "You're always so cold. And no wonder, in that hopeless little jacket."

Credence swallowed. "I know, it's horrible. I'm sorry."

"I don't mean it like that." Percy lifted his chin. "It's not warm enough for snow and ice, and I won't have you catching your death. I'm responsible for you, remember?"

Credence smiled softly. "I remember. But I don't have anything warmer."

Percy frowned. "Hmm. Come with me." He led him further down the alley to the back of the department store, where he retrieved his wand from his coat sleeve and, waving it at an unassuming back door, said an incantation. In moments, the door widened and turned into glass and ornate metal, and the whole back of the building changed, and there was a doorman in full livery standing right there, beckoning them closer.

"Welcome to Crowley & Wilberforce," the man said with a grand gesture of his gloved hands. "Please enjoy your shopping experience with us today, gentlemen."

Credence goggled, and Percy took his arm and led him into the store, where they were greeted by pleasantly warm air and the hustle and bustle of shoppers who were dressed quite differently to what Credence was used to. He looked around, and everything looked somehow... dreamier, more whimsical, than the few shops he'd seen. "Where did the other store go?"

"That's still there. This is merely the Wizarding version of it. They co-exist in the same space."

Credence nodded, as if it actually made any sense. He could _see_ this other store. He was inside it. So he supposed it did make sense, in some way.

"I'm going to buy you a proper coat. Something nice and warm."

"Ma will take it away the moment she sees me," Credence pointed out. "And she'll accuse me of having stolen it."

"We'll do something to hide it from her, don't worry. Meanwhile, there's no need for you to freeze to appease her cruelty, is there?" Percy's voice sounded hard and fierce.

Credence flinched, even though he knew the anger wasn't directed at him. "No. I suppose not, but I have no money."

Percy stopped him in his tracks and turned to him, cupping his shoulders, and now his voice was as soft as the look in his eyes. "Will it be so terrible if I give you a gift?" He searched Credence's eyes. "It would make me feel good too, you know."

Credence blinked. "Okay." He smiled.

"Good. Then don't worry anymore, darling. I've never wanted to buy gifts for anyone before, but I can think of no better use for my money than to make you happy." He released Credence slowly, knowing quite well how much he'd just admitted to.

Credence understood. "Oh," he said softly. "Thank you, Percy."

* * *

They took one of the fancy elevators - which seemed to be all glass and elaborate metal vine decor - to the menswear department, and Percy asked that they be shown the warmest, best coats.

It didn't take long to select a soft tweed coat - single-breasted for Credence, Percy insisted - in a blue-grey blend, with stylish purple silk lining. Both of them loved it, and Percy was sorely tempted to buy Credence a whole suit to go with it. The boy looked unspeakably handsome, immediately standing taller in the fine garment as if trying to match his posture to the straight cut.

"You look fantastic," he told him softly, and Credence blushed.

"Thank you."

The salesman hovered nearby, asking which charms were required to be added to the garment.

"I'll take care of that myself, thank you," Percy told him firmly.

"As you wish, Mr Graves."

Credence stared at the retreating salesman and said, "He knows your name. Are you... famous, Percy?"

Percy laughed. "Infamous, possibly." When Credence blinked at him, he explained, "I'm the Director of Magical Security at MACUSA - the Magical Congress of the United States of America."

While the title and, in fact, the organisation, meant nothing to Credence, the importance of such a post was rather obvious, and he swayed a little.

"Goodness me, you're not scared of my overblown title, are you?" Percy said, reaching out and taking Credence by his upper arms.

"Not scared, no, but... Percy, you must be very important. You can't have time to shop for a coat with me in the middle of the day!"

Laughing, Percy wrapped his arm around his shoulder as they headed towards the cash register. "The best part of being _important_ is that you can take time away from very dull administrative work to go out and do something that really matters." He let his fingers play at the nape of Credence's neck. "Like making sure you don't get frostbitten." He leaned close and whispered, "Only I get to nibble on you."

Credence shivered, and a soft little mewl escaped him. He just barely managed to form his enthusiastic one-word answer, "Yes."

Percy's eyes were very dark when he looked at him and said, "As soon as we've got you a scarf and gloves to go with that coat, we're going home, yes?"

"Please," Credence said, without hesitation.


	13. Heavenly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 12 Prompt (because I swapped 12 and 13 around): Gingerbread 
> 
> My apologies to today's prompt for giving it barely a cursory nod. :)

They Apparated into the living room, and Credence took off his new coat while Percy drew his new blue and purple scarf from around his neck. Then he allowed the gloves to be pulled off his hands, and everything was carefully placed over one of the arm chairs. The fire was lit with a sweep of Percy's hand, and he removed his own outerwear and dropped it besides Credence's.

And then Percy took him in his arms and kissed him, and Credence sank against him with a moan of need. Percy's hands were on his back, then slid around to his sides, thumbs brushing his thin ribs, and Credence's stomach rumbled ominously.

He gave an embarrassed little squeak, and Percy moved him back. "Have you eaten any breakfast?" His stern eyebrows drew together.

"Yes, I had gruel," Credence said, ducking his head.

"Gruel." Percy's expression told him what exactly he thought of that. "That's not even food. I'm making you a proper breakfast."

Credence stared at him. "No, it's okay, I... can we just keep kissing?"

Percy smiled. "As flattered as I am that you consider my kisses nourishment, we can keep doing that once you've had something to eat."

Credence smiled, and let himself be pulled towards the kitchen area adjacent to the living room.

"Okay, do you like bacon? What about waffles? Hash browns? Hash browns, definitely. And toast. Tomatoes! And eggs are a must." Percy wasn't even aware he was assembling enough food items on the kitchen island to feed a crowd, until he heard Credence laugh.

Credence couldn't help himself. He was so happy at that moment, and Percy was looking at him as if he was some kind of miracle, and that was so far removed from the way others looked at him, he thought he might be going a little mad.

"Merlin, you're beautiful!" Percy said huskily. "And when you laugh like that..." He swallowed, apparently unable to find the right words.

Credence looked at him wide-eyed, breath stuck in his throat.

Percy, almost absently, sent the groceries flying, and they kindly went about preparing a fantastic breakfast for at least two, while he moved forward and cupped Credence's face in both hands. "Do you know how terribly I missed you last night?"

"I missed you too. So much." Credence closed his eyes when Percy's lips swept light kisses over his cheekbones. "The necklace helped a lot."

"Yes, but I wanted to feel and see you in my arms. And I wanted to wake up next to you when the sun rose, and to see its light caress your lovely face." The soft lips kissed his forehead, the tip of his nose, and the small indent above his lips. "And to kiss you until you were breathless."

Credence held himself together with great difficulty. The picture Percy painted was so perfect, it hurt his heart.

Percy sensed the boy's struggle, and he realised he was pushing again, so he released him reluctantly and said, with a smile, "Let's eat."

"Yes, please."

Credence ate with great care, as if he was savouring every bite to the maximum, and it tightened Percy's throat to watch him and not ask whether he had ever been given proper food, and enough of it. He restricted himself to keep offering more, and to pour Credence more tea when his cup was even half empty, watching with a besotted smile when Credence nibbled on the miniature gingerbread man he'd placed on the edge of his saucer.

When Credence assured him he couldn't eat another bite, Percy sent the leftovers and dishes sailing into the kitchen.

"That was delicious, Percy, thank you." Credence delicately dabbed at his mouth with the napkin.

Percy smiled. "Now, where were we before your stomach decided to pipe up?"

Credence blushed. "You were kissing me." He rose and shuffled closer a little awkwardly, so Percy simply pulled him down into his lap, and Credence wrapped his arms around his neck.

Percy held him close, tipping his face up towards him, and Credence leaned down to kiss him softly and delicately. When he parted his lips, offering Credence access, the boy took it, letting his tongue be drawn into Percy's mouth and suckled. It had been a comfortingly ginger and tea flavoured kiss until that moment. When he groaned, Percy tipped him in his arms, until he was nearly horizontal across his lap.

Breathing hard, Credence clung to his neck. Soft whimpers escaped him when Percy's hands began to roam over his whole body, and he felt him hard against the backs of his thighs.

"I love the little sounds you make," Percy said roughly against Credence's parted lips, tipping him fully until his head was supported by the arm rest and struggled out from under him so they could stretch out alongside each other. His left hand moved over Credence's stomach, sliding open shirt buttons and undoing his belt and trousers, until he could touch skin.

Credence gasped when Percy's hand slid under his shirt, seeking out and caressing his nipples while his mouth was on his neck, kissing and nipping at the smooth skin.

"Percy." Trembling under the roaming hand, Credence covered it with his own, taking only a moment before boldly directing it lower, to slide inside his underwear. He moaned when the smooth fingers curled around his hard length, drawing it out from the fabric and exposing him to the warm room and Percy's gaze.

"Someone is excited," Percy growled, when just a few strokes resulted in his grip smoothing out, made slippery with Credence's juices.

"Feels so good," Credence sighed, then jolted a little when the hand tightened around him, thumb tip sweeping over the exposed, red tip, which was weeping profusely now.

Percy raised his fingers, licking at them while Credence looked on breathlessly. He made a hungry sound and shifted down the sofa, taking Credence's trousers and underwear down with him, and removing them along with his shoes and socks. He kept Credence's hips and legs lifted while he moved between his thighs, kneeling on the sofa. He raised Credence's left leg so his calf rested on the back of the sofa, and pulled his right leg onto his shoulder.

Credence was flushed with both arousal and embarrassment at lying there so exposed, legs spread wide.

Percy set about distracting him from any shame by sliding his hands under his hips and bending low over him to take him in his mouth.

"Oh, God!" Credence cried out, fingernails digging into the sofa cushions until he checked himself and let go to not damage anything. His eyes kept closing, the suction on his cock and gentle kneading of his buttocks were so good, but then he watched Percy suck and lick and eventually swallow him down, looking rapturous. "Uh..." he gasped and shuddered and nearly cried out loud when the tip of one of Percy's fingers brushed over his hole. He just held back, not wanting to draw attention to the shameful slip of Percy's grip. But then the finger returned, nudging at the small opening as if on purpose.

"What... Percy?" Credence was panting as if he'd run a mile.

Percy just smiled at him, released him a little, then drew him deep into his throat again, squeezing his balls at the same time, and Credence flooded his throat with a shudder and a cry. He was still coming when Percy withdrew, replacing his mouth immediately with his left palm, and the remaining few spurts ended up on it, a few drops dripping onto the sofa.

Credence lay gasping, staring wild-eyed as Percy parted his thighs even wider, and then there was a wet, cool sensation against his hole and he realised Percy was working a finger inside him, sticky and damp with his own seed. "Percy," he whined, ashamed and yet unable to stop himself from bearing down on the gentle intrusion.

Percy growled softly in his throat. "That's right, darling, let me in. Just relax. I'm not going to hurt you."

The soothing words and the slow, slow motion of the single finger sliding in and out of him made Credence slowly release any tension. Percy wanted to do this, even though it was so strange, and it felt strange too, but there was something so wonderfully intimate about feeling a part of Percy inside his body that it quite overwhelmed Credence. And only then did it occur to him that Percy was preparing him for more, and the realisation almost made him hard again.

"Does this feel good, darling?" Percy asked softly.

"Yes, it's... it's starting to," Credence gasped out when a second finger was added.

"Let me see if I can't make it feel even better." Percy said a spell, and smiled when Credence yelped at the sudden sensation of ample lubrication inside his channel.

"Oh, that's... that's _good_." Credence trembled when three fingers slid into him and nudged something inside that made him see stars. He loosened up as completely as he could to make it easier for Percy. "Please, do that again?"

"This?" Percy watched him carefully as he angled his fingers upwards, smiling when Credence moaned out loud. "Hmm."

Credence looked at him in wide-eyed awe. "If this is so sinful, why does it feel so good?" 

Percy chuckled. "Exactly, darling. Words of wisdom." He leaned as far forward over Credence as he could without dislodging his gently thrusting fingers. "I can just keep doing this until you come again, if you're not comfortable with me taking you yet."

"Taking me," Credence said slowly, musingly. His heart was pounding, and not just from the pleasure Percy's fingers were wringing from his body. "No, Percy, please. Please, take me." His head was spinning at the thought that he would be able to remember the feel of Percy actually inside him, even once he wasn't here. He could suddenly hardly wait.

Percy breathed a sigh of relief, struggling to undo and push down his trousers and underwear just far enough. "Do you mind if I don't take the time to undress and carry you to the bedroom?" His voice sounded suddenly urgent and desperate.

"No, I don't mind. Please, I need you. Now." Credence pleaded with his eyes as well as his words.

"Oh, sweet boy, I love it when you beg." While Credence bit his lower lip and whimpered, Percy whispered another spell as before, and then his hands were under Credence's buttocks, positioning him carefully, while he slid inside.

Credence moaned at the copious wetness oozing out of him as Percy pushed in. It felt strange and wonderful, and he realised it was all there to make it easier for him. He reached up for any part of Percy he could reach, his hands fastening on his upper arms, and he groaned once Percy was all the way inside.

"Credence," Percy sighed, holding perfectly still for a moment, eyes tightly closed. Then he started to move in and out very slowly, opening his eyes, watching Credence's face carefully.

Credence's mouth was open, and he was breathing gulps of air, and then he was breathing Percy's breath, and they were kissing, mouths open and tongues tangled while Percy's thrusts became longer, more rhythmic, deeper and faster. Closing his eyes - his vision was a fuzzy blur anyway - Credence held onto the strong biceps under his fingers, unable to do anything else except let Percy take full possession of his body and drink down the groans passing from Percy into him. He shuddered like a leaf in a storm, helpless and helplessly in love, more and more with each passing moment, because underlying the desperate thrusts into his body were the tenderness of caring hands, softly whispered endearments and encouragements, and sighs and soft moans which made Percy sound as vulnerable as he himself felt.

When they came - Credence with a broken cry and Percy with a whispered, "My sweet Credence," dripping from his lips - it was like nothing Credence could ever have imagined.

The concept of this as sin was ridiculous to him. Quite the opposite - this was heaven. And when Percy slowly lowered himself beside him and held him close, kissing his hot, flushed cheek, he said so.

Percy agreed with a soft whisper and an enchanted smile.


	14. A Beautiful Sight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 14 Prompt: A beautiful sight
> 
> (I know, I'm several days behind, and not just on this. I had one deadline story to complete, and am still working on another, but I'm doing my best to catch up. Expect, hopefully, another chapter later today.)

Percy led Credence to the bedroom. There, he taught him how to light the fireplace using his wand.

They undressed in front of each other. Credence was no longer shy, merely a little flustered. Then they climbed into the soft bedding, and Percy curled around Credence from behind, smiling at the contented sigh which stirred the hairs on his forearm.

"Just lying in your arms is almost as good as when you're making love to me," Credence said softly.

"I'm making love to you right now," Percy teased, kissing the side of Credence's neck when he heard the soft giggle.

"I know, but you know what I mean."

"Yes, I do." Percy held him close. "Credence..."

"Yes?" Credence shifted until he was on his back, Percy's right arm under his nape, left hand on his waist, thumb tracing his stomach. He looked into the brown eyes and gulped at the emotions so clear in them.

"You know I love you, don't you?" Percy asked.

Credence drew in a shuddering breath and parted his lips, but he was shushed. 

"You don't have to reply in kind. I know there's something that's keeping you from burning your bridges and taking me up on my offer to stay with me, despite your mother's treatment. It must be something very compelling, or maybe you actually love your foster mother, despite the way she--"

It was Credence's turn to shush Percy. "No, stop. Please." He looked a little desperate, trying to decide how to explain. "I don't. I... I know it's wicked to say this, but I hate her. I hate her so much." He looked ashamed, but fought not to avert his eyes. "There's someone else there who needs me. I'm always my mother's first choice for punishments, and if I were to leave--"

Percy looked appalled. "Are you telling me you're not only taking her cruelty for yourself, but for your sister? The one who glared at me yesterday the moment I walked into the church, as if I was the devil himself?"

"Oh no, not Chastity." Credence sighed. "She's not punished as often, and it's not Chastity I'm staying there for, it's Modesty." When Percy looked understandably confused, he explained, "Modesty is my little sister."

Percy blinked. "You have another sister?"

Credence nodded. "She's only eight years old, and she's too little, she can't take ma's--" A sob caught in his throat, and Percy held him tight.

"Hush, Credence. I understand." Percy swallowed hard. So that was it. Credence's tie to his terrible home was a defenceless little girl for whom he took extra beatings. He thought of the sour-faced woman snarling at Credence the moment they had walked into the church the night before, and hatred filled his heart. He had never in his life wanted to choke the life out of a no-maj with his bare hands, but he did at that moment.

"You're squashing me, Percy," Credence gasped.

Percy loosened his embrace at once. "Oh no, I'm sorry, darling. I'm so sorry. Are you all right?" He kissed his forehead and cheeks frantically.

"It wasn't that bad, don't worry." Credence gave him a reassuring smile and snuggled close.

"I got lost in thought, thinking about your foster mother," Percy explained, feeling guilty, "and I'm afraid my thoughts weren't pleasant."

Credence nodded. "I understand. I feel that way often."

"I'm sure."

"Percy, about Modesty..." Credence sounded worried. "She saw you last night."

"How?" Percy asked, surprised. "There was no one else there I didn't obliviate."

"I thought she'd be in bed, because it was late, but she was upstairs, waiting for me to come home."

"I see." Percy smiled. "I'm glad someone in that place cares for you."

Credence was smiling too. "She's not my real sister. None of us are related, but she's like a real sister to me."

"What did she say about seeing me?"

Credence actually laughed softly at that. "She said you looked very nice and kind." Percy chuckled, but then Credence went serious. "She also thinks you're a witch."

"Oh dear." Percy frowned.

"I told her no, but she's quite determined, once she gets an idea into her head."

"Clever girl."

"Are you going to obvi... ob--"

"Obliviate her?" When Credence nodded, Percy said, "You don't want me to, do you?"

"No." Credence sighed. "I can't say why. I know it doesn't hurt her, but..."

"I know why, don't worry," Percy reassured.

Credence stared at him. "You do?"

Percy nodded, and stroked his cheek. "You're very lonely in that place, and it's good for you if someone else knows there's another world out there. One that isn't to be hated and feared." He looked thoughtful, "Credence, do you think there's any possibility Modesty might be a witch?"

Credence looked stunned. "I don't think so. She'd probably like to be one." They both laughed at this. "How could I find out?"

"Has she ever made something strange happen? Or did anything ever happen to someone who threatened her, or you?"

Credence considered this. "Ma has trouble holding onto the... the belt sometimes, and once she tripped on the stairs when she came after me. And there was that time a man yelled at Modesty and me and chased after us, and he slipped and fell." He frowned. "Could she have caused that? Could I?"

"It's possible." Percy considered this.

"No, I can't believe Modesty... It must have been me. Does that mean I'm evil? What if I do something really bad, just because I don't know how to control my magic?" Credence was getting more distraught with each word, and Percy held him tighter again.

"There's nothing evil about defending yourself or someone you love. And it might have been pure chance, or it might have been you, or it might have been your sister. We need to find out whether she's a witch. It would make a great deal of difference."

"How so?"

Percy smiled. "May I tell you that once we know for sure? I don't want to get your hopes up."

"Okay." Credence raised his chin. "Percy..."

"Yes, darling?" Percy looked down into the soft dark eyes, feeling breathless at the longing there.

"I _do_ love you. I love you so much."

"Credence," Percy whispered, touching his cheek tenderly.

Credence drew a deep breath. "I _want_ to be with you, always, please believe me. There's nothing in the world I want more! But I can't leave Modesty in that place all alone, and I can't ask you to look after her, it's too much to ask--"

"Credence, listen to me." When he had his full attention, Percy cupped his face in both hands and smiled. "I love you and need you, and I want you with me every day and every night, and I will move heaven and earth to make that happen. A little girl - witch or not - is no reason for me to abandon you, and I know she must be a very special little girl either way. You don't need to ask me to look after her. I am offering to do it. I _want_ to do it - for your sake, and for hers, and you know what? Even for mine. I want all of us to have love, a real home, and a real family."

Credence sobbed, but he smiled too, and it was a beautiful sight.


	15. Toy Soldier

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 15 Prompt: Toy Soldier

When Credence returned to the Second Salemers church that evening, early enough not to worry Modesty, he wore his new coat, spelled invisible, and in the deep pockets he had a gift. Two, actually, but one of them was a rather special gift.

He withstood the interrogation about his pamphlet distribution, not looking guilty as he usually did when he hadn't managed to hand them all out. As it happened, Percy had used them for kindling, rather gleefully, when teaching him how to light a fire with magic, so Credence told Mary Lou very sincerely they had been received with joy.

She had frowned for a moment but, as he showed none of the signs of lying to appease her, she believed him.

He went upstairs quickly, to avoid brushing against anything with the coat, and removed it and hid it in a corner of the trunk serving as his clothes closet. He hid the gifts too, resolving to give them to Modesty later.

Dinner was awful, as usual, which did not worry Credence, as Percy had insisted on making him a proper dinner earlier, so he spooned the weak soup, did his kitchen tasks, and went to bed, giving Modesty a sign on the way.

She sneaked into his room after Mary Lou had gone to bed, and he waved her over to the trunk. "What is it, Credence?" she asked eagerly.

"Do you remember my friend, who dropped me off yesterday?" he asked, and her eyes lit up. 

"That nice man? Oh yes. Did you see him again?"

Credence nodded. "He gave me something for you, and you must not tell anyone."

Modesty gave him a look. "As if I would!"

He smiled. "I'm just making sure." While he dug in the trunk for the small box, Modesty knelt by his side.

"Did he really give you a gift for me? But he doesn't know me."

"No, but I told him all about you, and he wants to meet you."

"Oh." Her eyes were shining. "Did you ask him if he's a witch? I'm sure he is, you know!"

Credence gave her the box. "Why are you so sure?"

She shrugged. "Because he's different. Ma always says witches are unnatural, and powerful and dangerous. And he looks kind of dangerous. Like someone with special powers."

"Hmm." Credence nodded to the box. "Well, open it."

She did, and her eyes went wide. "This is cake!" She retrieved the large hunk of fruit cake, so full of fruit and nuts, it was quite heavy; it was also covered in a liberal layer of marzipan icing, Credence knew, having sampled some of it himself earlier. "May I eat it now?"

"Yes. Don't eat it all at once, or you might get sick."

"Okay." She nibbled at the cake, smiling happily. They had never been given anything as rich as that by ma. She watched Credence reach for something else in his trunk. "Please tell your friend I said 'thank you'."

Credence smiled at her and gave her the second gift. "You can thank him yourself soon. And for this, too."

Modesty stared. This box was bigger, a tall cylinder shaped one. "May I look now?"

"Yes."

She unscrewed the top, set it aside, and reached in to withdraw a toy soldier, painted in bright colours - white breeches, black boots, a scarlet jacket with gold buttons, and a tall black hat. His hair was red, his eyes green, and he had a big smile with rosy pink apple cheeks painted on it; despite that, it was a strangely natural looking face. This was the kind of toy she had seen when peering into toy stores. She almost laughed out loud, but quickly stopped herself by clapping a hand over her mouth, before Credence could do it.

"Oh, Credence. He's precious." She goggled. "He must have been very expensive."

"I'm not sure." Credence watched as she set him down. This next part made him nervous, and he hoped he would do it right. "He looks quite magical," he said, as if the idea had just occurred to him.

"He does." Modesty put the rest of the cake back in the box carefully. "He looks almost alive."

Credence took a deep breath. "You should tell him to walk across the room. Maybe he will."

"Don't be silly, Credence." Modesty giggled. "He's made of wood, how would he walk?"

"Well, he might be one of those fancy toys that do." He reached out and examined the soldier, as if he was looking for a key somewhere, much to Modesty's amusement. "Okay, close your eyes, and when I tell you to, open them again and concentrate really hard on wanting him to walk."

She grinned. "Okay, Credence."

Credence set the toy down - there was no key, nor any other mechanical aid to make that soldier move. The only thing that would make him move, Percy had told him, was a magical child. This was a toy designed to train very young wizards and witches to focus their magic. It was designed to respond to even the slightest magical intent.

"Now, Modesty," he said.

She opened her eyes, glaring furiously at the toy soldier - it was her way of showing concentration - and mouthed the word, 'walk'.

And the toy soldier began to march quite determinedly across the room, past Credence - who was so surprised, he only just managed to clamber after him before he walked into the door with a bang. When he grabbed him and turned back to Modesty, she sat there smiling.

"You knew he would do that!" she insisted.

Credence sat back with the toy in his hands and said, with absolute sincerity, "No, Modesty, I had no idea."


	16. Meeting Modesty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 16 Prompt: Season's greetings
> 
> Oh, I know, I'm so far behind due to fests. Believe it or not, I'm still hoping to get this done by the 24th, so expect quickfire chapters over the next couple of days. They won't all be as long as this one. :)

Credence and Modesty went off in different directions the next morning, as they'd been instructed by Mary Lou. After a couple of blocks, however, they both turned into side streets, and met up again 10 minutes later.

* * *

Modesty was greatly excited. Her brother was being very secretive. He had only told her that she would get to meet his friend that day, but refused to tell her anything more, except that she should not be scared of anything she might see; that he would be there with her, and everything would be explained.

She was never scared with Credence, but often for him, because their ma hated him so much. She often wished she was older, so she could stop ma from hurting him. Even if it sometimes seemed as if concentrating very hard made things difficult for ma, she didn't know how to make her never beat him again.

Maybe Credence's friend could help. He looked so strong and tough, as if he might take on absolutely anyone. And Credence looked funny when he talked about him. He looked far away, smiling a little, as if he was both happy and proud. She liked that his friend made him feel like that, and she looked forward to meeting him very much.

* * *

Credence held Modesty's hand when they approached the usual meeting point and, this time, Percy was already there. Credence saw him, and saw the look on his face - the widening of his eyes, the bright smile slowly spreading, the utter relief. He smiled back. Percy knew now. They had arranged that, if Modesty could make the toy soldier walk, he was to bring her along right away; and Percy would know she was a witch.

Percy came up to them, clearly struggling not to kiss Credence or say something very emotional and romantic, and merely said, "Well, hello Credence." He crouched down and smiled, offering his hand. "And you're Modesty? It's wonderful to meet you, young lady. My name is Percival Graves. Your brother has told me such nice things about you."

Modesty giggled, and put her little hand in his. "Hello, Mr Graves. Credence keeps talking about you too."

"Does he now?" Percy peered up at Credence and gave him a wink, and Credence flushed. "That's very sweet of him."

Modesty nodded, and hugged Credence with her free arm as best she could, beaming up at him, and he leaned down and kissed the top of her head, dressed in her little blue bonnet.

Percy watched them, and how affectionate they were with each other, and his heart melted. "Credence, do you think Modesty would like one of those snowmen?"

"I'm sure she would, Percy."

"Are we going to build a snowman?" Modesty asked excitedly.

"Not exactly." Percy stood up straight again. "We're going to drink one." When she goggled at him, he laughed. "You'll see. We can always build one later, how about that?"

"Yes, please, that would be fun."

* * *

Modesty was swinging her legs back and forth in midair. She was sitting on a tall chair in a nice little coffee shop, drinking something sweet and chocolaty tasting, even though it was white, and looking surprised when Mr Graves asked Credence, "Any pamphlets today?"

Credence sighed. "Of course." He extracted them from his still invisible coat, which confused Modesty enormously, as they seemed to pop into existence from out of nowhere, and then said to her. "Give me yours too, Modesty?"

"Okay," she said. She had tucked hers behind her belt and placed them on top of Credence's. "Don't read these, Mr Graves, they're silly. Ma makes us give them away."

Percy laughed. "I know all about these, Modesty. Consider today's lot given away." And he took them, stood up, and walked to the big fireplace near their table, where he tossed the whole lot in.

Modesty laughed, and Credence watched her with a smile, and when Percy returned and sat down again, Modesty looked at him with something like awe and said, "I like you, Mr Graves."

"I like you too, Modesty."

She slurped on her chocolate. "Thank you for the cake, and the toy soldier. It's great fun, but Credence had to hide it today. Ma wouldn't like me having it."

Percy looked thoughtful. "Were you able to make it walk?"

"Yes!" Modesty declared triumphantly, but then added, "I think Credence helped though."

"Did you, Credence?" Percy asked.

"No, but she won't believe me." When Percy laughed, he added, "She had it marching right across the room."

"I'm very glad to hear that."

"Toys don't walk by themselves," Modesty stated with some authority.

"That's very true, but maybe you have special powers to make it do that?"

Credence gasped, looking around worriedly, but Percy mouthed to him, 'Privacy spell', and he relaxed.

"I don't have special powers," Modesty said sadly. "I bet you do though, Mr Graves."

"Call me Percy. And what makes you say that?"

She smiled. "You can make people forget things. I wish I could do that." Her grey eyes looked at Percy searchingly. "Are you a witch?"

Percy returned her smile, then glanced at Credence, "Your little sister is very forthright."

Laughing, Credence said, "I know."

To Modesty, Percy said, "What if I am?"

She bounced up and down a little. "Don't let ma find out. She hates witches."

"You don't?" Percy asked.

"Oh no. I wish I could do magic."

"What if I told you that you can?"

That stopped her every movement, and she looked at Percy with her eyes huge and her mouth open. Finally, she said, "Prove it!"

"You've already done that yourself." Percy looked amused when she made an effort to understand how she could have done that without knowing.

Credence leaned across the table. "Are you sure no one can hear us?"

"Absolutely sure," Percy reassured him.

"Oh!" Modesty laughed. "Did you do something funny to us? Or to everyone else?"

"Well, a little of both, in a way."

"What if I shouted really loudly?" she asked.

Percy waved a generous hand. "Go right ahead."

She took a deep breath, grinned at Credence when he covered his ears, and let out an almighty yell.

"Oh, my goodness. That was quite a shout," Percy praised.

"I know! " she declared proudly, looking around. "No one is looking at me. They didn't hear."

"There you go."

"Credence, I told you! Didn't I say he's a witch?" Modesty was beaming.

"You sure did."

"I still don't believe I'm one," she said mournfully.

"Well, I _will_ prove it to you. Still feel like building that snowman?"

* * *

Ten minutes later, they stood on Percy's terrace, protected from the snow falling in thick flakes by a bubble of warm air.

Modesty was looking around, stretching out her arms, and only her fingertips caught falling snow. "Is this what magic is? And jumping here from somewhere in the street like we did too?" She ran out into the snow and peered over the edge of the terrace wall, and both Credence and Percy ran after her - Credence catching her around the waist and Percy taking hold of her shoulders.

"Don't fall over the side, we're high up," Percy said worriedly.

"But Percy, you said I'm a witch too. Can't I fly?"

He snorted. "You have to learn how first. It's like learning to ride a bike, or a horse. And you need a broomstick."

She giggled. "Oh, that's right!"

Credence covered his face. "Percy, don't tell her that, or she'll try jumping off the landing on a broom."

Percy made a sound of agreement and said sternly. "Right. Here's the deal, buttercup. No trying to fly until you're taught properly."

Modesty grinned, but nodded. "I promise, I won't."

"Good. Now, about that snowman..."

Between them, they managed to build one in record time - Percy shaped the lower body, Credence stuck a smaller torso on top, and Modesty made the small round head.

"He needs a nose, and eyes, and a hat," she declared.

Percy flourished his wand and said, "Accio carrot, fedora and... two walnuts."

Modesty bounced up and down, clapping her hands, with such vigour, she slipped and nearly fell, but Credence caught her. They both watched Percy catch the summoned items in midair and attach them to the snowman's head.

"Walnuts for eyes!" Modesty cackled, and stood on her toes to place the fedora on the snowman's head. She looked very pleased when Percy gave it a little nudge to make it sit at a jaunty angle.

"I think Credence should arrange for a scarf for him, don't you think?" Percy said, looking at Credence as he handed him his wand.

Modesty gasped. "But-"

Credence looked at her, then smiled at Percy, and flourished the wand in an imitation of Percival's gesture, saying very clearly, "Accio Percy's scarf."

Modesty's eyes were huge by the time the fine blue scarf came sailing out onto the terrace, and Percy snatched it and placed it around the top of the snowman's torso.

"Credence," she gasped. "Credence, you're a witch too! Did you know? Oh, I'm so excited."

Credence smiled. "Percy knew, and he told me all about the magical world. There's still a lot I don't know, but it's nothing like ma thinks."

Modesty nodded. "I bet not." She leapt up at him without warning, and he caught her in his arms and spun her around, laughing. "Credence is a witch!" And then, in a mockery of Mary Lou's dire warnings, "Witches are among us!"

Percy watched them, joining in their laughter. "Your turn, Modesty."

Credence slowly let her slide back to the snowy ground, where she stood staring. "You're not making fun of me?" She narrowed her eyes at Percy.

"I wouldn't do that. Try and you'll see. I get the feeling you need proof."

Credence handed her the wand. "Do what Percy and I did, and say, 'Accio...'" He pondered.

"Sticks?" Percy suggested. "A snowman needs arms."

Modesty stood very straight, waved the wand, looking just a little bit disconcerted, and yelled out, "Accio sticks!"

An armful's worth of kindling came flying outside from the living room fire basket, and both Percy and Credence struggled to catch them.

Modesty's mouth stood open as she watched them. Then she stared at the wand in her hand, before gasping, "I'm a witch." She fell down on her bum, right there in the snow, as if the whole thing was suddenly too much.

"Modesty!" Credence exclaimed, leaning down worriedly.

She looked up at him and smiled. "I'm a witch, Credence." Then she turned her face. "I'm a witch, Percy."

All three of them were laughing now, while Percy simply plucked her up out of the snow, brushed her coat down, and lifted her up in his arms. "You're a soggy witch now. Can't have that." He spelled her coat dry. "Time to sit you down in front of the fireplace."

She beamed at him, threw her arms around his neck, and hugged him happily.

Percy met Credence's eyes across her shoulder as he held her tight, and he looked anything but composed.

Credence had tears in his eyes as he walked towards them to stroke Modesty's back and one of Percy's hands where it held her.


	17. A Real Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 17 Prompt: Warm and cozy

Credence spelled the fireplace alight, and Modesty watched him from her lofty place up in Percy's arms, still amazed and looking more pleased on Credence's behalf than her own.

"Can I learn to do all these things?" she asked.

"Of course, in time." Percy put her down, and she went to the fire, holding her hands out as if to make sure a magically lit fire would be just as warm as a standard one. When she found it was, she took off her coat and bonnet - which Credence took from her, smiling at the bird's nest her long hair had become - and sat down beside a big pouf in front of the fireplace, resting her arms on it and her smiling face on Credence.

"Would you two like some spiced tea and more of that fruit cake?" Percy asked as he headed into the kitchen.

"That would be nice. Modesty?" Credence looked at her.

"Please. Thank you."

"So polite." Percy chuckled, getting everything ready.

Credence settled down on the edge of the sofa, nearest Modesty. "So you'd like to learn more magic?"

"Oh yes. Is there someplace that teaches it?"

"There are Wizarding schools, Modesty," Percy told her. "Magical children are invited there once they're eleven years old. Younger children are usually just taught a few basic spells by their parents."

"Oh." She looked sad. "No one will invite me, and Credence and I have no parents."

Percy brought over the tea and cake and handed it all out. "Well, the inviting happens automatically, as you'll find out in 3 more years. As for parents... not all magical children have magical parents, but magical children without any kind of proper parent at all will always be taken care of by the magical community."

Modesty looked excited by that. "You mean we don't have to stay with ma?" She drew her brows together angrily. "She hurts Credence."

"I know." Percy looked at Credence, covering his hands where they lay in his lap.

"She hurts you too, Modesty," Credence pointed out.

"Yes, but not as much as you." She looked thoughtfully at the gentle way Percy was cradling her brother's hands. "I think she only likes Chastity, even a little."

"Probably because she's not sensing any magical heritage in her," Percy said.

"Oh. I guess so." Modesty chewed on her cake, considering this. She looked at Percy, who was settled in right next to Credence, close enough to touch. "So witches will take us away from ma and give us to someone else?" She suddenly looked very anxious. "Will they split Credence and me up?"

"No, Modesty." Percy met Credence's eyes, and they smiled at each other. "Your brother is an adult, so no one will decide for him, and I want it to be the same for you." He squeezed Credence's hand, giving him the opportunity to continue.

Credence took a deep breath. "Modesty, how would you like to live here, with Percy and me?"

She blinked at him, the remaining piece of cake dropping from her hand onto the plate, crumbs flying everywhere. "Here? Really?" she squeaked. "Do you mean that?"

Percy nodded. "I would love to provide you both with a home where you'll feel safe and loved." He wrapped an arm around Credence, and held out his hand to Modesty. She scrambled towards them, and they both hugged her tight.

"Thank you, Percy," she sniffed into his shoulder.

Credence, who had rarely actually seen Modesty cry - she always fought it as best she could - stroked her hair. "Hush, it's all right. Everything will be all right, little one."

"Oh, Credence," she sobbed. "Won't it be nice not having to be scared all the time?"

"It'll be wonderful," Credence agreed, closing his eyes as he rested his head on top of hers.

"You'll never have to be scared again," Percy said. "I promise, I'd never let any harm come to either of you."

Modesty drew back and looked at them both in turns. "We'll be like a real family." She giggled. "Kind of."

"Not kind of," Percy corrected her with a smile. He turned Credence's face towards him by his chin and pressed a soft, light kiss to the trembling lips.

"Oh." Modesty's eyes were very wide.

Credence blushed, but Percy told her, "You see, Modesty, we love each other very much, Credence and I."

Credence nodded in agreement, and rested his head on Percy's shoulder as he watched to see Modesty's reaction. She was too young to have heard or understood much of Mary Lou's preachings about the sin of men loving each other, and she had never taken anything of her hateful words truly to heart, but he was still a little nervous.

She looked back and forth between them, and then she smiled brightly. "Then we _are_ a real family!"


	18. Papers and Permits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 18 Prompt: Celebration

They spent the rest of the day planning for the future. Neither Credence nor Modesty wanted to return to the church, and Percy certainly didn't want to let them go back, but he knew, and explained to them, that if he did not file the proper paperwork with MACUSA _before_ they moved in with him, there would be questions asked and potential trouble later on.

Percy did not tell them that to file the proper paperwork would require some imaginative bypassing of certain Wizarding community laws. He had no intention of letting anyone cause harassment of any kind to his two charges, nor of making them wait a single day longer than necessary to get out of their mockery of a foster home. He would not let them be held by officials for any length of time, questioned about their non-magical upbringing, or looked at with suspicion. His position meant that no one would dare to do any of those things, once they were officially and properly under his protection.

So they returned to the Second Salemer's church late that afternoon, and Percy returned home to get ready for the annual pre-Yule office party. He dreaded nothing more, but it would provide him with an excellent opportunity to access all the necessary departments and paperwork without anyone being any the wiser.

* * *

The party took place on the top floor of the Woolworth building. There was entertainment, food, drink, and every kind of distraction Percy could hope for. He showed up, circled the room once, chatted with all the essential people to ensure his presence had been noted, and then quietly and surreptitiously made his way down to the bowels of the building by way of the least used elevator. If anyone should look for him later that evening, they would assume he had either decided to work in his office or go home; he was not know to be a party animal.

His first stop was the Department of Magical Citizenship, where he filed identity papers for Credence Graves and Modesty Graves - distant relations of Percival Graves, recently orphaned under tragic circumstances never to be discussed. He then filed, and instantly approved - his position allowed him to do so without it ever being questioned - the paperwork necessary to give him guardianship over them both. Credence, though an adult, had been raised without magical learning, so he had to officially become the ward of a wizard until he had learned all the basics of magic. Modesty, now properly registered, would receive her Ilvermorny letter in due course; much to her delight, no doubt.

Percy moved on to the Wand Permit Office, where he issued permits for both Credence and Modesty - he would take them shopping for wands as soon as possible; a proper wand for Credence and a child's wand for Modesty.

Then all he could do was done, and Percy found himself at a loss.

He returned home, to his apartment, which right then seemed emptier than ever. He sat in the dark living room, lit only by his fireplace, while swirling brandy around a glass held in his right hand.

It was nearly midnight, and he was sorely tempted to apparate to that damned church and fetch his family right away. He couldn't, not without running the risk of drawing the wrong kind of attention. Night time in winter was too quiet, and with all of MACUSA partying - he suspected he was the only exception - any incident involving his now wards would be more than suspicious. All he could do was wait and hope to nap a little before daytime. He glanced at the moon charm dangling on his necklace, hoping Credence would give him a sign that it would be safe to touch.


	19. Silent Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 19 Prompt: Silent Night
> 
> I apologise for the angst and Mary Lou-ness of this chapter. God, I hate writing about the bitch.

Mary Lou was beastly that evening, and suspicious. Credence knew it was because neither he nor Modesty could manage to entirely hide the fact that they were happy. Of course they were happy. If all went well, they would be with Percy, in their new home, the very next day.

She made them scrub down the entire kitchen area and all the floors, prepare meals for the orphans, help Chastity print more pamphlets than ever and, by the time Modesty was so tired, she could barely stand up anymore, she made them clean and tidy the bedrooms too, watching over them like a hawk, with a pleased smile when she managed to reduce Modesty to tears of exhaustion and very nearly provoked Credence into attacking her - with his bare hands, if he couldn't manage to channel his magic. He really, truly wished he knew how, but he also knew they shouldn't do anything that might cause Percy any problems.

Finally they were sent to bed, and it was only ten minutes later that Modesty came to Credence's room, climbed onto his bed, and clung to him. He had already been wrapped in his currently invisible coat, and he folded it around them both for warmth.

"Hush, little one. Just a few more hours," he whispered into her hair. "Then we'll never have to see her again."

"I know. I know." Modesty's voice sounded thick with tears. "I hate her so much."

"So do I."

"Percy is so good to want to look after us," she said, and Credence smiled, his heart instantly warmed at the mere thought of him. 

"Yes, he is. He's a wonderful man."

Modesty looked up at him and smiled, poking the corner of his mouth. "You always look so happy when you talk about him."

"He makes me happy," Credence admitted, lowering his eyes.

"I'm so glad." Modesty hugged him very tight.

Credence held her for a while longer, and then she quietly sneaked back to her room, wrapped in the coat Credence had insisted she take with her. In a mood like Mary Lou had been in earlier, neither of them trusted her to not make one of her impromptu inspections, so they couldn't risk Modesty not being in her own room.

Settling down on his side, freezing now as usual under his thin, ancient blanket, Credence reached for the sun charm inside his shirt and pressed three soft kisses to it.

There was an instant echo, and he sighed with relief, closing his hand tightly around the charm. He knew Percy was doing the same thing when warmth settled all around him, sinking through his very skin. He drifted off eventually, feeling comfortable and hopeful.

* * *

It was barely dawn when Credence woke, to the sound of shouting from Modesty's room. He scrambled out of bed and ran to the door, not taking the time to tuck his charmed necklace out of sight. He threw the door open, and fury gripped him when he saw Mary Lou hauling Modesty out of her room by her hair.

"You wicked, wicked child!" she screamed at her. "Where did you get it? Did you steal it? Did you beg decent, god-fearing folk for it?"

"Let her go!" Credence shouted.

Mary Lou stared at him. It was the first time he had ever dared to raise his voice to her, and it shocked her just long enough for her grip to loosen and Modesty to get away and cling to Credence's side.

He shifted her behind his back.

"She found my toy soldier," she told him, voice quivering.

Meanwhile, Mary Lou's gaze had fixed on Credence and, before he could do anything about it, she had reached out and torn the necklace from his neck, making him grunt with pain as the catch sliced into his nape. "What's this? Have I raised nothing but thieves?" She glared at Credence. Her eyes were furious. She flung the necklace, sun charm and all, over the banister to the floor below, where it skittered across the room.

"Give me your belt." She held out her hand, letting that infuriatingly calm expression come over her face which meant she was very much looking forward to inflicting pain.

Credence straightened up, held Modesty pressed tightly to him, and looked Mary Lou in the eye fearlessly. "No. You'll never hurt either of us again."


	20. Homeward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 20 Prompt: Home

Percy, who had dozed in his armchair, was woken by sudden, sharp pain, followed by a dull ache as if he had fallen on a hard surface. He was still seated where he'd fallen asleep, and the pain was still there, so it hadn't been a nightmare.

He reached for the moon charm, held it tight in his fist, and waited for it to grow warm. It didn't. Then he pressed his lips to it - it was still cold to the touch, and he felt nothing through it.

He leapt up, ensuring he had his wand, and apparated straight to the sidewalk in front of the Second Salemer's church. It was barely light, and he didn't give a damn if he was seen. He never should have let them go back.

* * *

"How dare you speak to me like that, you ungrateful wretch?" Mary Lou snarled. Her faked composure was gone. She was livid.

"We have nothing to be grateful for from you," Credence said coldly. He didn't recognise his own voice.

Modesty looked back into her room, seeing the toy soldier lying on the ground. It hadn't broken when Mary Lou had thrown it down, and she concentrated very hard on it and shouted, "Walk!"

Completely baffled, Mary Lou stared at her. "What?"

The toy rose straight up, and marched towards the door, and Modesty smiled. "Walk, walk!"

Mary Lou stared in utter disbelief as the toy soldier came out of the room and, with a fierce look towards her from Modesty, turned in her direction. She went as white as a sheet, backing up slowly down the hall. "Witchcraft," she muttered. "Black magic!" She kept walking backwards, and the soldier kept advancing on her, his cheerful visage staring unblinkingly up her up.

Percy burst in the front doors, just in time to see her backing up towards the low rail on the landing. "Credence! Modesty!" he shouted. "Are you all right?"

Mary Lou turned back to see who was there, while the toy soldier kept walking. She opened her mouth to either demand to know who Percy was, or to shout for help. The sudden turn disturbed her equilibrium, she overbalanced and, with a scream, she went over the rail, hitting the stone floor down below like a sack of potatoes, the snapping of her neck clearly audible.

Percy stared at her unblinking for a moment. He could have used a cushioning charm, very easily. He could have kept her hovering in midair. He had chosen to do neither.

Looking up at Credence and Modesty slowly making their way towards the landing - both of them pale and frightened looking and still in nightshirts - he ran up the stairs two at a time. Then he held his arms open and both of them flew into his embrace.

"Shh, everything's all right now. Everything's all right." He stopped the toy soldier just before he went over the landing with the edge of his shoe. "I've got you, dear ones." He pressed frantic kisses all over Credence's face and on Modesty's head and cheeks, and then just held them, turned away from the sight below.

"What's going on?" came a thin, reedy voice. "Ma?" Chastity was approaching them from down the hall, glaring when she saw someone hugging her siblings.

"Obliviate," Percy said with an almost lazy wave of his arm in her direction, and she stopped in place, then turned around, presumably to go back to bed.

Credence held onto him tight, and Modesty clung to them both, and Percy said, quite simply, "It's time to go home now," apparating all three of them.


	21. Evanesco!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 21 Prompt: Hopes and fears

Back at home, Percy lit the fireplace, sat both Credence and Modesty down on the sofa, and wrapped a large soft blanket around them both. Then he made them a pot of tea and broke up a large bar of chocolate into a bowl, setting down both on the coffee table in front of them.

He fetched two doses of calming draught from his potions cupboard, and they took them at his request. He also retrieved a fair amount of Muggle money from a drawer in his kitchen.

"Now, I want nothing more than to stay right here and hold you both until you feel better," Percy told them, "but there are a few things I need to go back for at the church. I won't be a minute longer than absolutely necessary, I promise."

"Okay, Percy, I'll look after Modesty," Credence said, holding her close and smiling up at him.

Percy leaned down and kissed him softly on the mouth.

"And I'll look after Credence," Modesty said, voice quivering. She too managed a smile when Percy stroked over her hair.

"You're very brave, both of you. Is there anything you want me to bring back? Anything you're attached to?"

"The necklace, and the coat you gave me," Credence said at once, "nothing else for me. Modesty?"

"Just my toy soldier, please?"

Percy was both warmed and saddened by the knowledge that the only things they had of value to them were things he had given them, and he took a deep breath. "Of course." He smiled encouragingly. " Now, you'll feel quite sleepy from the potion, but I want you to make sure to eat the chocolate and have at least some of the tea. You'll feel much better. Okay?"

"Yes," Credence said. "We'll be fine, Percy." He swallowed. "Please, be careful."

"Don't worry, darling, there's no danger for me. I just need to tie up some loose ends." Percy kissed him again, stood back, and apparated.

* * *

This time, Percy made sure to choose a safe spot near the church. It was still very early, and nothing but dairy and bakery vans, and delivery men, seemed about. Still, he made himself unnoticeable to No-Majes when he went back inside. Everything was at they'd left it minutes earlier, and he set about doing what had to be done.

First, he walked up to Mary Lou's body on the floor. Her eyes stared unseeingly up at him, yet she still managed to look accusing. He told her darkly, "It's a shame you died so quickly, and that Credence and Modesty had to see it happen." He pointed his wand at her, concentrated hard, and said, "Evanesco!" Her body vanished without a trace, and he took a moment to recover; the Vanishing Spell on something as substantial as a human body was intensely exhausting.

He bent down to pick up Credence's necklace and charm, then decided to deal with any paperwork next. With the aid of a sorting spell, he quickly managed to find what little there was in the church pertaining to Credence and Modesty and destroyed it all.

Then he went upstairs. He picked up the toy soldier, shrank him, and tucked him into his coat pocket. He sought out their rooms, and spent a couple of minutes in each just trying to compose himself. They were tiny, windowless cages, with not a single comforting or personal object or picture on the wall - not counting religious iconography. There were no books, aside from the bible, and barely more clothes than what he had seen them both wearing so far.

"That woman is lucky I have no interest in Necromancy, or I'd bring her back just to kill her again," he muttered to himself, vanishing the few objects anyone might associate with them, leaving only bare furniture - such as it was - behind. He quickly found Credence's coat, shrank that too and added it to his pocket.

Now he just had to deal with the other girl, Chastity. He found her room, where she was still sleeping; it was not much better than those of her siblings, but it could qualify as a room at least. It was clear she had been given preferential treatment, if only just.

Percy cast another Obliviation spell on her to make her forget everyone who had previously inhabited the church with her. It was risky, and there might be others who would remember them, but Percy took a chance on people being glad to never see Mary Lou Barebone again; as for Credence and Modesty - it was clear enough they had been used as nothing but tools and labour. He had no doubt neither of them had been allowed friends; he would ask them later, just to be sure. Credence had already told him Modesty had been taught basic reading, writing and calculations by their foster mother, so there was no school where she would be missed. 

Before leaving, he deposited the Muggle money he had brought with him in a plain box beside Chastity's copy of the bible; he believed it was a more than fair amount of money for her to survive on until she could either make something of the church or find work elsewhere. He didn't care for the girl, as she had clearly cared little for her siblings; but he had no desire to see her destitute. She was old enough to make her own way, and she had a roof over her head. He had no idea what other money there was available to her, and he had no wish to stay longer than he had to in order to find out. If Mary Lou Barebone had left a large stash of money anywhere in the church, she was more than welcome to that too.

* * *

Credence was just starting to worry, even though Percy had only been gone for about half an hour, when he heard the pop of apparition. He sighed with relief.

"All done," Percy assured him, smiling. "No one will go looking for you two now."

"I don't think anyone would have anyway," Credence mused, his arm tightening around Modesty, who had dozed off with her head on his lap.

Percy's chest tightened. He retrieved the items he had brought back from his pocket, returned them to their original size, and set them down, then he came over and settled down beside Credence, drawing him close carefully to not wake Modesty. He was pleased to notice all the chocolate and most of the tea was gone.

Credence let his head rest on Percy's shoulder. "Thank you, for everything," he said softly, and Percy was sure no one had ever received more heartfelt gratitude.

"I love you," Percy whispered to him. "There's nothing I wouldn't do for you, and you never need to thank me for anything."

"But I want to," Credence murmured. "You've saved us both."

Percy pressed his lips to Credence's temple, closing his eyes when he heard the contented sigh. "I wish you hadn't been there to see that happen."

"I'm glad I did," Credence said, sounding almost fierce. "This way, I can't suddenly start wondering if she'll come after us again."

"Believe me, she'll never be able to do that. Your sister Charity will be all right, by the way, she has the means to survive."

"I'm glad."

"Credence," Percy said, "tell me what you think - will Modesty be all right, or should I take her memories of this morning away?"

"I don't know." Credence frowned. "She didn't see her fall, I kept her behind my back, but she might have seen something before we left. I just don't know." He sighed. "She might prefer to remember too, but she's so little."

Percy looked down at the sleeping girl thoughtfully, stroking her long, tangled hair. "I can do this any time, shall we give it a few days and see?"

"Yes, please." Credence looked up at him and smiled, and the care and worry were fading from his features so fast, it was almost miraculous; he looked more beautiful than ever, taking Percy's breath away. He stroked his fingers over a tanned cheek. "I love you so much, Percy. I never thought I would ever be as happy as I am now."

Percy caught his fingers and pressed them to his lips. "Oh darling, if it's within my powers, you will be happier than anyone in this world has ever been."

Credence smiled. "You're the only one with powers to make that happen."


	22. Feast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 22 Prompt: Feast

After a long, hot shower—a luxury Percy absolutely insisted he should indulge in—Credence who, like Modesty, had arrived in their new home dressed in nothing but a nightshirt, dressed in clothes Percy had given him. He felt silly standing in front of the bedroom mirror running his hands all over himself, but everything was so soft, warm and comfortable. The beautiful coat had given him a taste of this, but the sensation of well-made, and probably expensive, clothes directly against his skin was unbelievable. Intensely sensual.

"Does everything—" Percy entered the room, stared at him, and cleared his throat, "... fit?"

"Oh yes." Credence beamed at him. "And it feels so nice against my skin." He blushed. "Almost too nice."

Percy looked a little desperate then. "Modesty is still sleeping on the sofa. I transfigured her toy soldier to be a cuddly toy." Credence smiled. "I also cast a spell to alert us when she wakes up." He backed up a few steps and closed the bedroom door softly behind himself.

Credence swallowed. "That's good to know."

He walked towards Percy, who met him halfway, and they moved into each other's arms, kissing hungrily. Credence's hands were in Percy's hair, and Percy's hands slipped under the warm, white cashmere sweater and tightened on Credence's bare back, pulling him hard against himself.

Credence's knees buckled. "Percy!"

"You have no idea what it does to me to see you wrapped up nice and cosy in my clothes," Percy's voice was a low rumble against his cheek and ear, his kisses chasing after his words.

"I have some idea," Credence gasped, nudging his hips forward and making Percy groan and cast a Silencing charm.

"And you smell of my soap and taste like my toothpaste. Fuck."

Credence giggled, but the sound turned into a whimper when Percy's hand slipped between them and went to work on his trouser closure. "I'm all yours, Percy, it's only right."

"Oh yes, you are." Percy's voice was rough, but his hand—though moving urgently and with purpose—was gentle as he pushed soft wool and smooth cotton down Credence's slim hips. "Thank Merlin my things are a little loose on you. I have no patience right now."

Neither did Credence, who helped, trembling all over and biting down on his fist when Percy fell to his knees and took him in his mouth without preamble. He'd been mildly aroused since the hot shower, and half hard since sliding on the silky soft underwear. He had to use Percy's shoulder for support, or he would have slumped forward over his back, when the gentle but skilled mouth went to work on him, aided by a firm grip around his base, and a hot palm on his right buttock keeping him in place.

Drawing back only for a moment, lips already slick and shining, Percy said, "Make all the noise you need to, the charm will hold." He smirked. "And I love to hear you lose control."

And Credence used both hands then to hold himself upright, digging his fingers into Percy's shoulders. He groaned out loud when Percy's tongue trailed up the longest vein on the underside of his cock. Then he watched him work the tip until his essence welled from it and he could slurp it up hungrily, before going right back to sucking the whole length into his mouth and throat.

"Percy, oh God!" Credence was shaking. He felt as if Percy was drawing his orgasm out of somewhere in the depths of him with the sheer power of his mouth and throat. He was making low, primal growling sounds, too, as if he was conjuring demons along with it, and Credence shivered despite the warmth filling him. When he felt him swallow around him, both hands now firm on his arse and squeezing, he came with a cry and a full body shudder which seemed to last forever. He certainly hadn't recovered yet when Percy rose from the floor and lifted him effortlessly in his arms to carry him to the bed.

"I've been up far too long without breakfast," Percy told him, which at first seemed out of context. He deposited Credence on the soft duvet, then flipped him over and placed one knee on the edge of the mattress between Credence's legs. "And I'm not done feasting on you."

"But... Percy, what—" Credence gasped when Percy lifted his arse up into the air and made him kneel. And then he felt Percy's hands back on his buttocks, drawing them apart and exposing him utterly—in daylight streaming in through half open blinds, no less.

"Oh God," Credence whimpered, embarrassed and growing helplessly aroused all over again already. He was nearly reduced to tears when he felt hot breath on his hole, followed by Percy's lips. He pressed his face into the bedding, his blush so fierce, he felt it heating the fabric in moments; just the way a pillow got hot when you have a fever.

Percy kissed and licked all around and over the small pink opening, only pressing his tongue inside when he heard Credence groan in obvious pleasure and knew it had won out over his inevitable embarrassment. He smiled to himself while he opened him up with firm licks and tongue wriggles, worming his way in as deep as he could, teasing the sensitive rim until it quivered, and adding a single finger once it relaxed enough.

Credence had to lift his head to take a breath eventually, and he gasped his name like a prayer. Then he pressed his cheek down again, lips parted, fists clenching in fine cotton and feathers, while a thin ray of sunlight caressed his cheek and Percy worshipped his body. "So good," he whispered, half-delirious. "Feels so good... so... so good."

Percy hummed and stroked his buttocks then, not pausing in his oral ministrations for a moment, moving his palms tenderly all over the soft swells, and a little way down the backs of Credence's thighs, thumbs tickling their insides, nudging against his perineum, teasing the back of his balls.

Credence's thighs were fairly close together, because the half pulled-down trousers and underwear allowed no more space, but neither of them wanted to waste time undressing further.

By the time Credence heard the rustling of clothes indicating that Percy's trousers were being undone, he was fully hard again and dripping, fighting not to rut into the duvet lest he should dislodge that fantastic, tormenting tongue for even a second before Percy was done with him. He grunted when the finger returned to join in the effort of opening him up, and then the tongue was replaced by a second finger. A softly whispered _Lubricous_ later, his channel was filled with slick wetness, both fingers sliding in and out with ease, squelching obscenely.

Credence whined, his eyes watering, his fingernails nearly shredding the duvet, while he begged and pleaded, "Please, Percy, please... please!"

One more finger, a little more widening, an especially deep thrust and curling of those fingers, and Credence was seeing stars, knowing he could come again, _would_ come again, just like this, but he needed Percy inside him this time.

"Please, Percy, fuck me," he begged, even though it made him blush.

Percy growled, withdrawing his fingers rapidly, noisily, and lining himself up to drive into Credence. The ease with which he could told him how ready and willing Credence was and, once he was all the way inside him, he had to stay still for a moment, or it would all have been over in seconds.

Credence's little whimpers and moans nearly undid him. The way he said his name was like an incantation—Credence, creating his own brand of magic and putting Percy under his spell utterly.

Percy pulled back a little way, hands firm on the slim hips. "Mine," he grunted, and thrust.

"Yes," Credence agreed with a gasp. "Percy, Percy... more."

"All mine." Percy started to drive into him harder, faster, knowing the pace was just fine when Credence encouraged him continuously with his desperate, pleading words and sounds.

"Yours," Credence whimpered when his voice cooperated, then simply moaned and whimpered when it didn't. He could feel Percy so deep inside him. Maybe it was because of the way he was kneeling, back arched and bent double, his legs close together, with Percy using just one knee on the bed for support and otherwise putting all his weight into driving into him. He wasn't just telling him he was his, he was _showing_ him. "Always yours," he gasped. "Forever."

"Credence!" Percy angled his next thrust upwards a little, pulling Credence back onto his cock as if he could possibly impale him even more deeply. "My darling Credence, my life."

With a sob, Credence came, filled with heat and joy and love like he never could have imagined. "I love you," he whimpered. "Sweet Percy, I love you so much."

Percy's climax washed over him with blinding intensity, and it was his turn to tremble all over, feeling as if a hurricane had just knocked him off his feet when he collapsed over Credence's back, lips pressed to his shoulder, hands on the slim waist.

Credence somehow managed to turn into his arms so they were lying side by side, facing each other, and he was pressing kisses all over Percy's face and making him smile.

"What did I ever do to deserve you?" Percy murmured under the adoring assault.

Credence stopped and looked into his eyes, his own were brimming over even as Percy reached up to catch the moisture on the side of his index finger. "You found me. You saw me." He smiled blindingly. "You love me."

"I do," Percy said, not caring that his own eyes were far from dry.


	23. A Magical Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 23 Prompt: Nightmare before Christmas
> 
> As this is not a Christmas story, I'm only using the nightmare part.

Once Modesty had woken up, and had been treated to a warm bath and a new dress, coat and shoes transfigured from several items of Percy's clothing, the three of them had a long, lavish brunch together. It took several nudges and many words of encouragement from Percy, but soon, even Modesty managed to ask for second helpings of things she liked and actually ate until she was completely full. Once finished, she beamed, sipping her cup of cocoa.

"I think today, we should go shopping for you two," Percy told them.

"You don't have to go to work?" Credence asked.

"Today of all days? Certainly not. I arranged for a few days' leave when I sorted out the paperwork for your guardianship."

"Days? Oh, Percy!" Credence was overjoyed.

"You'll be home with us?" Modesty asked, then paled. "I mean... oh, I'm sorry, Percy, am I allowed to say that?"

Percy frowned at her stricken expression. "Say what, buttercup?"

"Home. Am I allowed to—"

Percy got up, knelt beside her chair, and cupped her concerned face in his hands. "This is your home now, Modesty," he said softly. "Of course you're allowed to say that. In fact, there is literally nothing you're not allowed to do here, except to burn the place down or injure yourself in any way. And there's nothing you're not allowed to ask for either."

Credence smiled when Modesty's eyes widened impossibly. "I think it's going to take us a while to get used to that, Percy," he said.

Percy smiled up at him. "I know, darling, and I do understand, so don't worry about that either, okay?"

Credence nodded, and so did Modesty.

"Percy," she said. When he looked at her, she smiled. "Thank you for trans— um..."

"Transfiguring?" Percy suggested.

"Yes." She glanced over to the sofa. "My little soldier, and these too." She looked down at the rather successful result of a red sweater and white dress shirt turned warm winter dress and red coat, both much prettier than anything she'd ever owned.

"You're welcome." Percy tilted his head. "Do you want me to leave the toy soldier soft and cuddly, as he is now?"

"Yes, please."

* * *

They spent what was left of the morning shopping for clothes and other essentials for Credence and Modesty, with Percy continuously and patiently reassuring them both that no, he wasn't worried about spending so much money on them, and that he really did want them to have everything they needed. They ended up with two trunks full of items, duly shrunk and despatched to Percy's address.

Modesty had been stunned by the magical shops they visited for their clothes, but that was nothing compared to her expression when she was given a child's wand at _Lennox's_ and lit up not only the entire shop, but Percy's and Credence's faces, at a minor swish of it.

Her wand was ash with a dragon heartstring core, and Mr Lennox assured her solemnly that only a very talented, courageous and 'good' young witch could handle a wand like that.

Percy was very impressed, and watched with great interest as Credence went through his wand selection process.

After nearly tipping over a full shelf as high as the ceiling with a most unsuitable and wilful phoenix feather wand, he too ended up with a dragon heartstring wand—much to Modesty's delight. Percy was equally delighted, because now all three of them would have dragon heartstring wands. Credence's ideal wand wood turned out to be willow which, despite its rarity as a wand wood, did not surprise Percy at all.

"Ah, young man, you have a lot of potential, and you'll be a great wizard, once you conquer your insecurities," Mr Lennox told Credence, who blushed. "Willow wands are drawn to handsome individuals who are a good conduit for non-verbal magic. They have healing powers as well. You will go far with this wand, in any career path you choose."

"Thank you, sir," muttered Credence, still blushing but looking very pleased.

* * *

They had lunch in a magical coffee shop, where Modesty took great interest in a variety of tiny animal-shaped pastries rotating in a merry circle above their table. The challenge of catching one of each type of animal delighted her so much, she ended up overindulging.

A gentle rub of her tummy by Percy, and a tiny vial of digestive potion thoughtfully provided by the waiter, soon had her back in high spirits.

* * *

The afternoon was partly spent in a book store, where Percy bought them both basic magic books for beginners, along with a series of story books for Modesty.

"The pictures move, Percy!" she exclaimed. She was looking at a book whose cover showed a little witch in a red coat not unlike her own; the witch zoomed across a sunny sky, stopped her broom facing her, and waved cheerfully.

Credence laughed at her dropped jaw and wide eyes, realising they were in for a long string of similar surprises. He was greatly looking forward to the adventures ahead.

After the book store, Percy had them looking at furniture. He had a guest room, but it was furnished without any particular care or attention. It was a room that was purely functional, for guests Percy would just as soon not have lingering in his home.

He told Modesty to choose whatever she wanted. It took a while to stop her pretending she liked a plain, cheap, basic white wood bed, even while she kept looking longingly at a four poster with a bright red canopy.

"Modesty..." Percy told her with a warning voice but a twinkle in his eyes. "Tell me which one you really, really want. "

Credence leaned down and whispered to her, and she shyly looked up at Percy and admitted, "The one that looks like it belongs in a fairy castle, Percy, but only if—"

"Done," Percy said. He managed to convince her that it was just fine to get a matching bedside table, the tall lamp with metal vines and roses travelling up its length, and the book shelf, desk, chair and trunk. The room had a window seat, or he would have suggested an armchair too. He did insist on buying her the rocking chair she had admired on the way into the store, and she hugged him frantically.

"We can come back anytime to find other things to match, once you're settled in. I can transfigure the carpet and wallpaper to anything you like."

"Thank you, Percy!" She was beaming, even though she was starting to look rather tired from the long, exciting day.

Percy ruffled her hair, and Credence took her hand. "Shall we go home?" asked Percy, and both of them agreed enthusiastically.

* * *

By night time, Modesty's room was entirely her own and transformed to a close approximation of a fairy tale chamber in light woods and lots of reds and purples she loved. The small fireplace at one end of the room was lit, and her now fluffy toy solider was happily rocking in the enchanted rocking chair as he kept watch over the small figure climbing into the bed.

She sat in her thickly padded four poster, surrounded by colourful pillows, and smiled, if tiredly. "I feel like a princess." She played with the ruffled collar of her brand new, long and warm cotton night dress.

"You look like a princess!" Credence assured her, sitting at the foot of the bed, resting his back against a thick post.

Percy, who sat on the chair beside the bed, smiled. "A very sleepy princess. Are you sure you want a bedtime story?"

"Oh please, I've never been told one, only—"

"Bible verses," Credence supplied, mouth drooping a little. "It was all we had for me to read to her."

Percy scoffed. "Well, no more of that. Choose your story, Modesty—a sweet fairy tale, a story of a kindly dragon, or..." he drew his brows together and said, ominously, "a hair-raising pirate adventure?"

"Oh yes, please, that one! The pirate adventure."

"That's our girl," said Percy, and Credence beamed at him as if someone had lit him up from the inside.

* * *

It was almost 3 a.m. Credence was lying warmly ensconced in Percy's arms when the loud cries started. He shot upright, as did Percy.

"Modesty!" Credence gasped, jumping out of bed so fast, he made himself dizzy.

Percy was already on the way to the door, and they both hurried to Modesty's room down the hall. They found her thrashing in the bed, long blonde hair come loose from its ties and sticking damply to her forehead and cheeks. She was sobbing in her sleep, muttering something indistinguishable and angry-sounding now and then, while Credence held her close and tried to wake her.

In the end, Percy used magic to wake her, and she blinked at them both from tear-filled, scared eyes. "Oh, you're here!" She frantically tugged at Credence's pyjama lapels. "Are you okay, Credence? I thought she hurt you. I don't want her to hurt you anymore!" She clung to him, sobbing.

Percy looked on worriedly, stroking a calming hand over Modesty's back, while Credence held her and soothed her as best he could with words, "I'm fine, Modesty. I'm not hurt. She can't hurt either one of us anymore. She's... she's gone, remember?"

"Oh," she gasped. "I... I remember now. I killed her."

"Hey, no." Percy stroked over her hair. "You did nothing of the kind, buttercup." 

"She fell, Modesty. It wasn't your doing." Credence made her look at up him. "She fell. It was her own fault."

"But... I sent my toy soldier to scare her." She gulped, tears glistening on her cheeks. "And I'm glad she's dead." She looked horrified then. "Oh Credence, am I evil?"

"No, little one!" Credence hugged her, looking helplessly at Percy over her shoulder.

"You know, Modesty, she only fell because I came in when I did. And I didn't stop it happening," Percy told her. "I could have done."

She looked at him then, said very softly, "I'm glad you didn't," and sobbed again.

Credence rested his cheek on her head, while she cried into his neck, and looked at Percy. He whispered, very softly, "Please, Percy, do it."

Percy nodded. They couldn't let Modesty have dreams like that. They couldn't let her think herself evil. She had suffered enough; they both had. Percy gently cupped the back of her head in his palm and whispered, "Obliviate."

Modesty's sobs slowly died down. Eventually, she looked up at Credence, then at Percy. "What happened? Why are you both looking so worried?"

"You had a nightmare, little one."

Modesty blinked, her features relaxing. "I don't remember what it was about."

Percy asked, "Would you like some warm milk?"

She nodded, smiling at him. "Yes, please."

By the time she had finished her milk, Percy had read her a couple more pages of her pirate story, and Credence had brought over her toy soldier-who was now nestled under her duvet beside her, she was yawning widely.

"Someone needs to go back to sleep," Percy told her, trying to sound stern.

"Yes, I think so," Modesty agreed readily. She kissed them both on the cheek, then snuggled into her soft new bed. "I had such a nice day." Her voice drifted off. She was asleep before they had left the room, sneaking out softly and leaving the door ajar.


	24. Healed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 24 Prompt: Peace
> 
> Well, all good things come to an end. Some of them about 26,000 words later than the author had originally intended. ;)  
> Total absence of actual festiveness in this fic, in the traditional sense, but you've probably read enough of that lately anyway. At least there was snow, and I managed to finish it before the end of the year!

Credence slipped right into Percy's arms the moment they were back in their bed. "Thank you," he sighed.

Percy breathed a kiss against his temple. "She'll sleep like a baby now and, when she wakes up tomorrow, she'll feel the way one always does after a long sleep following a terrible ordeal—light as a feather." He smiled softly.

Credence leaned on his elbow and looked down into his eyes, his own shining in the firelight. "If I live to be 1,000 years old, I'll never thank you enough for everything you're doing for us."

Percy traced his fingertips over Credence's cheeks. "I don't want you to thank me. Just love me, and tell me that you do now and then, that's all I ask. To hear you say it and see it in your eyes, is worth more than all the thank yous in the world."

"That's easy," Credence whispered, not quite master over his voice. "I love you so much, Percy, I want to tell you and show you all the time." He pressed his lush lips to Percy's with utmost tenderness.

Percy cupped the back of his head, fingers buried in soft black hair, and they kissed and breathed each other's breath for long minutes, until their mouths separated with a soft, wet sound.

"Do you know what I look forward to the most?" Credence murmured.

"Learning magic?" Percy's gaze was tender and sleepy on the face he already loved more than any sight in the world.

Shaking his head, Credence said, "Falling asleep in your arms, and waking up in your arms." He smiled a little secretively, "And... magic is nice, but I still look forward to your other lessons the most."

"Is that so?" Percy smiled back. "At your rate of learning, you'll soon be teaching me."

Credence laughed. "I doubt it." He peered up at him from under his lashes. "You only need to look at me, and I'm in a learning mood."

Groaning, Percy flipped them until he was leaning over Credence, pinning his slim wrists to the pillow. Credence's eyes were bright and his lips parted eagerly. "Likewise," Percy growled. Going back to sleep could wait.

**EPILOGUE:**  
Late Summer, 1929 – Grand Central Station

Today, Modesty was going to take the train to Ilvermorny for the first time.

They were on the hidden platform already, and she was riding the luggage trolley, with Percy and Credence pushing it indulgently, while she was seated on the topmost trunk as if it was her throne.

In her arms, she held her familiar: a Valais Blacknose lamb called Perdence—a name from which they had been utterly unable to dissuade her. Modesty knew her own mind, and once she had decided her lamb would be named after them both, that had been that. Perdence's red collar had a glinting round name tag, proclaiming her name on one side and 'Familiar of Modesty Graves' on the other.

She wore her favourite colour, red, right down to her little boots and bonnet, and her grey eyes were shining with a mixture of excitement and tears.

"You'll visit me during term, won't you?" she asked again, looking over her shoulder and nearly overbalancing the trunk.

Percy caught it, and her, just in time. "Of course we will, buttercup, every chance we'll get."

"And you'll come home for all the holidays," Credence reminded her. "You won't even have to take the train, we'll come and get you on the last day of school. Right, Percy?"

"Definitely." Percy stopped walking, halting the trolley. "And in the meantime, we'll exchange owls and make the odd fire call, but—"

She nodded and grinned. "I know, Percy, I'm not to tell anyone I already know how to do that. Or all the other things."

"Not until they come up in class," Credence clarified, and she agreed.

The train soon rolled into the station with plumes of smoke and a loud hoot.

They got Modesty settled into a compartment with two other children, who looked at her in awe when they realised who was dropping her off—the Director of Magical Security himself, and his mysterious former ward and now husband—and she went back to the exit door with them to say good bye.

She hugged them both at once, somewhat awkwardly, as she was still clutching Perdence. She tried valiantly not to cry, but didn't entirely succeed, and neither did Percy and Credence.

"It'll all be very exciting, you'll see," Percy reassured her, dabbing at her cheek with his monogrammed handkerchief. "You'll have a wonderful term, and by the time you're home next, you'll be able to put us both under _Imperio_ and make us buy you a herd of Perdences."

"Percy!" Credence laughed out loud, through his tears, and Modesty giggled helplessly.

"Baa!" agreed Perdence, looking thrilled, as far as anyone could tell—her black eyes were barely noticeable in her little black face, but her pink tongue was poking out.

"Look after Credence, Percy. And Credence, look after Percy," she told them as sternly as she could manage.

Percy mock-saluted her, and Credence kissed the tip of her nose. "We will. You behave yourself."

"Don't I always?" She put on a brave smile. "I'll send an owl to let you know which house I'm in."

"Thunderbird, I bet," said Percy. "You're our little adventuress, after all."

Modesty smiled. "Who knows? I might surprise you."

There was a loud whistle coming from the platform, and Credence and Percy climbed down from the train, back onto the platform, after another fierce hug and kiss for Modesty from each.

They waved to her long after she could possibly see them, and Credence couldn't help a sob when the train chugged out of sight.

"Darling, come here." Percy wrapped him in his arms. "She'll be back in a couple of months, you know, and we can easily sneak up there one weekend very soon under the pretense that she's forgotten something important.

Credence gasped out a soft laugh against his neck, knowing full well no one would question Director Graves too intently. "Yes, please."

"She'll have the whole school wrapped around her little finger by then, you'll see."

Credence didn't doubt it for a moment. He never doubted Percival, no longer even when it came to his lofty opinion of him—youngest wizard ever to be admitted to a course for Advanced Healers, that's how Credence was known now.

He had learned more magic in two years than he would have been taught at Ilvermorny over seven, thanks to Percy and the very experienced tutors he had hired for him.

Credence's innate talent for healing had become apparent quickly and had been no surprise to Percy. Not with his husband's sweet, compassionate nature, and the fact he had been chosen by a willow wand. Credence had taken to it like a duck to water, and had been delighted to discover he could put his talent to use assisting Percy and his colleagues, who got themselves injured far too often.

"Let's go home," Percy whispered in his ear.

Credence shivered. "Yes, please."

"I don't like it when you're sad, and I'm going to spend the rest of the day cheering you up."

Credence clung to him for the apparition, and once they landed in their apartment, he didn't let go in any hurry. The place was warmer and homelier than ever, and with Modesty's drawings of them, Perdence and any number of wild creatures existing only in her mind—at least as far as they knew—pinned up everywhere, it felt rather as if she was present.

Percy's mouth found Credence's, and he gave him a very distracting, intense kiss which promised all manner of wonderful things. "How does a long, hot bath sound, followed by a delicious dinner and a night spent making love by the light of a hundred floating candles?"

Credence smiled at him, his eyes twinkling as he wrapped his arms around his neck. "It's only just after 10 a.m., Percy."

"The sooner we start, the longer the night will be," said Percy with a wink, before he began to undress Credence, even while leading him down the hall to the bathroom.

Credence had learned long ago never to question Percy's logic, especially when he benefited from it. After all, it was the reason he was the happiest wizard in the world.

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://sweetsorcery.tumblr.com/), and we can squee about this and maybe other pairings/fandoms we love. (While it's still allowed there, ye gods!) And drop me a message if you'd like me to follow you back. :)
> 
> Copyright of this fandom, some settings and its characters - J.K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, and possibly other right holders. This story is written purely for the entertainment of fans, and no profit is made.


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